THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


f. 


^'tV 


THE   BOOK   OF 

ITALIAN    TRAVEL 


THE   BOOK   OF 

ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

(1580-I900) 


BY 

H.  NEVILLE   MAUGHAM 


IVirH  FOUR   ILLUSTRATIONS   IN  PHOTOGRAFURE 
BT  HEDLET  FITTON 


LONDON 
GRANT    RICHARDS 

NEW  YORK :    E.  P.  BUTTON  ^  CO. 
1903 


Printed  by  Hallantvnh,  Hanson  &'  Co. 
At  the  Ballantyne  Press 


4  I"? 


PREFACE 


The  question  of  how  best  to  popularise  the  large  amount 
of  travel-literature  concerning  Italy  is  a  problem  of  some 
difficulty.  The  view  here  adopted  has  been  to  utilise  it  so 
as  to  give  a  synthesis  of  the  art  and  character  of  the  most 
typical  Italian  towns.  The  danger  of  the  many  speciaUsed 
books  that  pour  from  the  press — admirable  as  some  of  them 
are — is  that  the  reader  does  not  attain  a  general  idea  of  Italy. 
In  that  country  very  little  has  altered  since  the  northern 
travellers  first  journeyed  there  in  the  seventeenth  century. 
The  accounts  of  early  travel  are  mostly  as  correct  now  as 
when  they  were  written,  and  often  they  possess  the  pictur- 
esqueness  drawn  from  a  life  more  in  harmony  with  the  art  of 
the  great  eras.  Some  sides  of  Italian  art  were  totally  neglected 
by  the  first  travellers,  and  in  such  cases  we  have  to  go  to  later 
interpreters,  seeking  the  aid  of  those  most  in  sympathy  with 
any  particular  period. 

It  has  been  remarked  by  Ampere  that  as  a  man's  tempera- 
ment is,  so  will  he  show  a  preference  for  Venice,  Florence,  or 
Rome.  He  might  have  added  that  there  is  a  natural  predis- 
position towards  the  Classic,  the  Gothic,  or  the  Renaissance 
periods.  Every  one  of  our  travellers  has  his  bias,  but  we 
still  believe  that  passages  chosen  from  authors  so  widely  apart 
as  Evelyn  and  Taine  will  not  form  an  unharmonious  mosaic. 
If  there  is  a  difference  in  the  style  of  our  authors,  there  are 
often  far  greater  differences  in  the  style  of  the  churches  or 
pictures  contained  within  one  town.  It  is  only  owing  to  the 
scientific  habit  of  thought  that  modern  men  are  able  to  con- 
c  c  .'4  ''^}  ■  '"•  •  '-  '-Z 


vi  PREFACE 

sider  such  varying  manifestations  of  the  sesthetic  life.  The 
present  writer's  numerous  journeys  in  Italy  enable  him,  he 
trusts,  to  mark  when  a  writer  is  giving  us  a  direct  impression 
rather  than  a  mere  bit  of  fine  writing.  The  personal  descrip- 
tions of  Montaigne,  Evelyn,  Goethe,  and  Beckford  are  retained 
as  being  of  importance,  but  as  a  rule  in  other  cases  we  have 
to  ask  for  the  objective  note  first  of  all. 

It  would  have  been  perfectly  possible  to  make  our 
book  entirely  personal  and  social,  for  travellers'  descriptions 
of  architecture  and  painting  cannot  always  be  scientifically 
correct.  We  have  come  to  the  conclusion,  nevertheless,  that 
the  towns  can  only  be  differentiated  by  the  comparison  of 
their  monuments,  and  having  found  our  own  Italian  memories 
considerably  simplified  by  the  mere  process  of  selection,  we 
think  it  probable  that  the  reader  too  will  be  assisted,  though 
he  must  exercise  prudence  with  regard  to  the  finahty  of  the 
statements  our  travellers  have  made.  A  travel-picture  is 
necessarily  more  a  sketch  than  a  ground-plan,  an  impression 
rather  than  a  treatise.  The  reader  will  not  always  find  his 
Italy  here,  but  from  the  "  multitude  of  counsellors  "  he  may 
learn  some  new  views.  With  the  fresh  activity  directed  to 
our  own  towns  at  home,  it  cannot  be  superfluous  to  examine 
those  of  Italy,  considering  them  as  organisms,  but  always 
remembering  that  we  live  under  different  conditions  of  faith 
and  civilisation.  No  book  that  we  know  of  gives  a  complete 
picture  of  Italy ;  the  subject  is  too  vast,  the  historical  associa- 
tions too  numerous.  Our  selection  does  not  propose  to 
supersede  the  existing  guide-books,^  but  rather  to  supplement 
them ;  it  may  be  useful  as  showing  modern  travellers  what  the 
average  opinion  is  concerning  any  town  or  typical  monument. 
Taste  is  always  changing,  and  it  is  of  importance  to  sum  up 
the  experience  of  the  past  so  as  to  test  any  fresh  advance. 

^  The  late  Mr.  A.  J.  C.  Hare's  entertaining  volumes  occupy  the  via 
media  between  the  guide-books  and  this  selection,  but  very  few  of  his 
quotations  will  be  found  in  the  present  volume,  as  our  title  excludes 
poetry  and  romance. 


PREFACE  vii 

Particular  care  ,has  been  taken  to  make  the  appreciations 
chosen  representative  ;  and  in  the  general  balance  of  the  book 
credit  has  been  given  to  every  school  of  art.  However  we 
may  estimate  the  later  schools,  they  had  their  influence  on 
European  art,  and  to  sacrifice  Palladian  architecture  to  the 
Gothic  order,  or  the  Renascents  to  the  Primitives,  is  to 
prejudice  the  whole  inquiry. 

The  general  bibliography  of  Italian  travel  is  contained  in 
Boucher  de  la  Richarderie's  Bibliotheque  des  Voyages,  with 
occasional  comments ;  and  a  still  fuller  list  up  to  the  year  1815 
has  been  published  by  Prof.  Alessandro  d'Ancona  at  the  end 
of  his  translation  of  Montaigne's  Journey.  The  introduction 
here  following  can  only  be  said  to  be  relatively  exhaustive, 
and  there  is  the  possibility  of  having  omitted  some  work  that 
might  have  been  of  assistance.  We  begin  our  selection  at 
Venice,  because  the  most  important  travellers  down  to  Goethe 
started  with  that  town.  From  Venice  we  follow  the  towns  on 
the  Adriatic  side  to  Ravenna ;  thence  we  come  back  north 
and — following  the  easiest  comprehensive  railway  journeys — 
we  take  the  towns  from  the  Lakes  to  Milan  and  Bologna; 
from  Turin  to  Genoa,  Pisa,  and  Leghorn ;  from  Florence  and 
Perugia  to  Siena  and  Orvieto ;  then  Rome  and  Naples,  con- 
cluding with  the  bay  of  Naples.  We  have  necessarily  excluded 
antiquities,  except  in  some  few  cases  at  Rome  and  Pompeii. 

Most  generous  permission  to  use  copyright  matter  has  to 
be  acknowledged  in  the  following  cases  :  For  extracts  from 
J.  A.  Symonds'  Sketches  afid  Studies  in  Italy  and  Greece 
(edited  by  Mr.  H.  F.  Brown)  to  Messrs.  Smith,  Elder,  &  Co. ; 
for  the  extract  from  Frederika  Bremer  to  Messrs.  Hurst  and 
Blackett;  for  those  from  Mrs.  Elliot's  Idle  Woman  to  the 
Marchesa  Chigi  and  to  Messrs.  Chapman  &  Hall ;  to  Messrs. 
Chapman  &  Hall  also  for  the  extracts  from  T.  A.  TroUope's 
Letiten  Journey ;  for  the  translations  from  Goethe  and  Vasari 
to  Messrs.  George  Bell,  as  also  for  a  passage  from  Hope 
Rea's  Donatello;  for  the  extracts  from  Hawthorne's  French 
and  Italian  Notebooks  to  Messrs.  Kegan  Paul  &  Co.  ;  for  the 


viii  PREFACE 

passage  from  Mr.  H.  James'  Life  of  Hawthorne  to  Messrs. 
Macmillan ;  for  the  extract  from  C.  G.  Leland's  translation  of 
Heine's  Reisebilder  to  Mr.  W.  Heinemann  ;  for  a  note  from 
Tuscan  Cities  to  Mr.  W.  D.  Howells ;  for  an  extract  from  his 
translation  of  Rabelais  (A.  P.  Watt)  to  Mr.  W.  F.  Smith  ;  for 
the  extracts  from  G.  S.  Hillard's  Six  Months  in  Italy,  from 
Dean  Stanley's  Letters,  and  from  G.  E.  Street's  Brick  and 
Marble  in  the  Middle  Ages  to  Mr.  John  Murray;  for  those 
from  Lady  Wallace's  translation  of  Mendelssohn's  Letters,  and 
from  Lord  Macaulay's  Life  and  Letters  (Trevelyan)  to  Messrs. 
Longman  ;  for  a  passage  from  the  Letters  of  Henri  Regnault 
to  M.  Eugene  Fasquelle ;  for  the  extract  from  Montesquiou  to 
the  Baron  de  Montesquiou. 

Mme.  Taine,  in  granting  the  courteous  permission  to  select 
from  TvL  Taine's  Voyage  en  Italic,  added  that  she  was  always 
happy  to  see  her  husband's  works  "  mises  a  portee  du  public 
anglais."  In  conclusion,  it  may  be  stated  that  biographical 
facts  in  the  introduction  have  always,  where  possible,  been 
tested  by  the  admirable  accounts  in  the  Dictionary  of  National 
Biography. 

The  Editor  would  be  glad  to  receive  any  corrections,  for  in 
dealing  with  matter  covering'  such  a  wide  period  mistakes 
may  very  well  occur. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Preface v 

Introduction i 

Part  I— Italy  the  School  of  Humanism  and  Taste  4 

§  I.  Early  Travels 5 

§  2.  Travellers  from  Coryatt  to  Evelyn         ...  19 

§  3.  Objects  of  Travel 27 

§  4.  Travellers  from  Burnet  to  Winckelman          .         .  31 

§  5.  Travellers  from  Gibbon  to  Young          .         •         •  39 

§  6.  The  Theory  of  Good  Taste;  Italian  Character    .  48 

Part  II— Italy  and  the  Modern  Spirit      .        .        •  57 

§  I.  Goethe  and  Mme.  de  Stael 57 

§  2.  Napoleon's  Italy 65 

§  3.  Byron  and  Shelley 71 

§  4.  The  Search  for  the  Picturesque    ....  81 

§  5.  The  Cult  of  Mediaevalism  and  the  Primitives        .  89 

§  6.  Scientific  Study •         •  I02 

Venice  and  Towns  of  the  Adriatic     .       .        .       .111 

The  Lakes,  Milan,  and  Towns  to  Bologna        .        .  201 

Turin,  Genoa,  Pisa,  and  Towns  to  Leghorn      .       .  231 

Florence,  Perugia,  and  Towns  to  Orvieto       .        .  253 

Rome 33i 

Naples  and  the  Bay  of  Naples 438 

Index 459 


Adde  tot  egregias  uibes,  operumque  laborem, 
Tot  congesta  manu  praeruptis  oppida  saxis, 
Fluminaque  antiques  subterlabentia  muros. 

.  .  .  Salve,  magna  parens  frugum,  Saturnia  tellus, 
Magna  virum  :  tibi  res  antiquae  laudis  et  artis 
Ingredior. 

Vergil,  Georg.  II.  (ap.  158-174). 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


FLORENCE Frontispiece 

PAGE 

VENICE 112 


ROME 332 

NAPLES 438 


The 

Book   of  Italian   Travel 


INTRODUCTION 

This  book  is  a  symposium  expressing  the  delight  of  many  of 
the  greatest  minds  of  modern  Europe  when  fresh  from  one  of  the 
unique  experiences  of  hfe.  But  while  it  contains  the  selected 
descriptions  and  appreciations  of  Montaigne,  Evelyn,  2\ddison, 
Goethe,  Shelley,  Dickens,  Taine,  Symonds,  and  many  others, 
our  record  of  their  travels  will  show  plainly  how  gradual  was 
the  recognition  of  the  importance  of  Italy.  Books  and  books 
have  been  written  about  Italy,  but  it  needed  many  minds  to 
understand  the  meaning  of  the  architecture  and  the  painting 
contained  in  its  towns.  It  took  some  800  years  to  make  the 
Mediaeval  and  Renaissance  Italy  which  still  exists  for  our 
wonder ;  it  has  taken  400  years  for  the  northern  races  to 
arrive  at  a  full  conception  of  the  civilisation  that  resulted  in 
such  an  art.  The  reason  why  the  full  appreciation  of  Italy 
has  taken  so  long  may  be  expressed  as  the  result  of  (i)  the 
extreme  diversity  of  the  influences  that  made  Italy;  (2)  the 
essential  differences  between  the  Teutonic  and  Latin  races. 

To  take  the  first  point,  the  differences  between  the  Italian 
towns  are  as  striking  as  those  between  Athens,  Corinth,  or 
Sparta  must  have  been.  This  is  in  most  cases  more  than  a 
contrast  of  geographical  peculiarities ;  the  fierce  antagonisms 
of  the  Middle  Ages  produced  results  of  extreme  individualism. 
The  conflict  was  the  result  of  a  mingling  of  races  and  spiritual 
influences  which  can  only  be  paralleled  by  modern  America. 
The  factors,  stated  in  their  simplest  form,  were  the  clash  of 
Christian  customs  and  paganism,  the  influx  of  new  blood  from 
the  north,  the  Byzantine  influence  with  its  attenuated  form  of 


2  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Oriental  mysticism,  the  supremacy  of  the  Papacy,  the  establish- 
ment of  the  Republics  and  of  monastic  institutions,  and,  finally, 
the  rule  of  the  despots  and  the  revival  of  Greek  learning.  We 
have  the  blood  of  the  north  and  the  south,  the  religion  of  the 
east  and  the  luxury  of  paganism,  a  country  of  heavenly  beauty 
and  strife  of  unimaginable  hate,  all  in  a  ferment  to  the  making 
of  a  new  order  of  things.  The  intermingling,  the  clash  and 
reaction  of  all  these  influences  have  occupied  historians  for 
many  years.  It  was  not  easy  to  see  the  past  in  any  proportion 
until  Gibbon  wrote  his  great  work,  which  is  really  as  much 
the  history  of  the  early  evolution  of  Italy  as  that  of  the  dis- 
integration of  Rome.  We  believe  that  the  succeeding  pages 
of  this  study  will  show  plainly  that  the  increased  appreciation 
of  art  has  always  gone  with  the  progress  of  historic  inquiry  ; 
we  might  almost  say  that  the  art  has  not  been  recognised  until 
its  history  has  been  elucidated. 

To  indicate  the  second  preliminary  point,  it  is  evident  that 
the  Teutonic  ideals  resulting  in  the  Reformation  and  culminat- 
ing in  Puritanism  were  something  deeper  than  a  mere  change 
of  ceremonial.  Those  movements  were  a  part  of  the  temper 
of  abstract  thought  of  the  northern  races.  ^  The  Italians 
living  in  a  beautiful  country,  and  linking  on  to  the  pagan 
representation  of  deities  in  all  forms,  were  naturally  inclined 
towards  a  visible  manifestation  of  their  ideals.  The  Mass 
is  a  dramatic  representation  of  the  Divine  Sacrifice ;  the 
Cathedrals  by  their  very  form  typify  the  Cross  on  which  that 
sacrifice  was  consummated.  The  Catholic  religion  began  with 
asceticism,  but  ended  by  reconciling  itself  to  the  beauty  of  life. 
The  Church  of  Rome  in  the  Renaissance  represented  a 
Christianity  founded  on  paternal  authority  together  with 
a  pagan  love  of  earthly  beauty.  In  severe  contrast  with 
this  is  Puritanism,  with  its  faith  founded  on  the  individual 
conscience  and  its  reading  of  life  as  discipline.  A  religion 
of  tradition  will  need  vast  churches  as  evidences  of  the 
past;  a  religion  of  the  conscience  will  be  satisfied  with  its 
plain  houses  of  prayer ;  the  Catholic  will  ask  for  the  Church 
made  manifest  in  ceremonial,  the  Protestant  will  rely  on  his 
Bible. 

Catholicism  is,  perhaps,  more  than  a  religion,  it  is  a  national 

'  Only  in  one  town  in  Italy — Naples — has  there  ever  been  a  marked 
tendency  to  speculative  philosophy,  and  this  is  attributed  to  its  Greek 
origins.  The  abstract  temper  of  the  Teutonic  races  is  fully  discussed  in 
Taine's  Philoaophie  de  I' Art. 


INTRODUCTION  3 

temperament,  and  Puritanism  might  be  looked  at  in  the  same 
way.  Some  such  fundamental  distinction  must  be  sought 
between  the  Italian  and  the  Teutonic  races.  The  national 
genius  of  Italy  found  itself  in  a  life  of  outward  splendour  and 
in  a  laxer  rule.  Look  at  the  expression  of  our  English  spirit 
in  Shakespeare  :  it  is  a  search  for  hidden  laws  of  truth  and 
righteousness.  Shakespeare  took  from  Italy  what  England 
could  not  give  him,  the  romantic  colour  and  decorative 
architectural  background  of  the  south.  But  he  had  a  funda- 
mental Puritanism  in  his  Renaissance  expression,  for  every 
one  of  his  characters  is  judged  by  unseen  laws.  Galileo,  the 
Italian,  discovered  the  movement  of  the  heavenly  bodies ; 
Newton,  the  Englishman,  discovered  the  reason  of  that  move- 
ment. Catholicism  marks  the  place  of  the  Divine  Sacrifice 
in  the  history  of  the  world,  and  illustrates  it  in  ritual  and  in 
fresco,  with  a  wealth  of  beauty  and  pity  that  is  unapproach- 
able. Puritanism  seeks  out  the  moral  tragedy  of  good  and 
evil  and  asks  for  no  actual  manifestation,  no  real  presence  of  a 
Redeemer  beyond  the  mystical  communion  of  prayer. 

It  would  not  be  possible  to  find  a  generaHsation  wide 
enough  to  express  the  difference  of  the  Italian  and  the 
Teutonic  conceptions  of  Hfe.  It  was  necessary  to  indicate 
that  a  fundamental  difference  does  exist.  The  better  we 
understand  this  fact,  the  easier  it  will  be  to  trace  the  gradual 
appreciation  of  Italian  art  from  the  years  following  on  the 
close  of  the  Renaissance — which  was  also  the  period  of  the 
northern  Reformation — to  the  end  of  the  nineteenth  century. 


PART    I 

ITALY   THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM 
AND   TASTE 

At  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century  the  outward  evidence  of 
the  perfervid  Hfe  of  Italy  is  as  complete  as  the  shell  which  has 
grown  round  some  sea-organism.  This  shell  remains  to  us 
almost  untouched  by  time,  and  scarcely  deformed  by  the  last 
growths  of  the  seventeenth  or  eighteenth  centuries.  But  it  is 
notable  that  the  travellers  from  the  north  of  Europe  begin  to 
go  to  Italy  just  when  its  great  artistic  work  is  practically  com- 
plete. It  was  not  possible  for  the  Italians  themselves  to 
appreciate  fully  the  work  of  their  ancestors.  We  must  not 
think  that  they  have  been  indifferent  to  their  great  possessions, 
although  the  fact  that  so  many  things  have  been  done  in  their 
country  is  at  present  a  dead-weight  on  their  enthusiasm. 
There  were  always  Italians  with  a  love  of  antiquity,  who  were 
ready  to  collect  their  national  documents  or  treasures.  In  the 
seventeenth  century,  too,  we  see  frequent  reference  to  the 
antiquaries,  or  "sightsmen"  who  conducted  travellers,  and 
these  were  often  learned  men. 

But  if  we  had  only  the  accounts  of  Italians,  the  literature 
dealing  with  Italy  would  be  far  less  rich  than  it  is.  The 
northern  sightseers  were  at  first  instructed  by  the  inhabitants, 
but  they  soon  began  to  compare,  to  classify.  We  travel  now 
with  their  accumulated  experience,  but  many  appreciations, 
which  are  easy  to  us,  were  the  results  of  years  of  inquiry.  It 
is  worth  while  to  trace  the  gradual  growth  of  that  aesthetic 
evolution.  When  the  first  literary  travellers  went  to  Italy  from 
England  there  was  no  school  of  painting  in  existence  at  home, 
and  Vasari  penned  the  epilogue  of  the  art  of  his  country  a 
hundred  years  before  even  the  most  cultured  Englishmen 
could  discuss  art  at  all.  They  were  days  of  progress  when  the 
northern    mind   grasped   the   beauty   of  Venice;  the  plastic 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM   AND   TASTE     5 

of  the  Venus  di  Medici;  the  refined  charm  of  Raphael's 
Madonnas ;  the  subtlety  of  Donatello  or  the  simplicity  of  the 
Primitives ;  and  the  further  we  go,  the  more  we  shall  mark  the 
rest  of  Europe  seeking  its  inspirations  in  Italy,  and  taking  as 
much  treasure-trove  home  as  its  mental  equipment  made  it 
capable  of  adapting.  As  we  go  forward,  taking  our  travellers 
for  the  most  part  chronologically,  we  shall  be  able  to  work 
into  the  thread  of  the  narrative  certain  passages  which  cannot 
very  well  go  into  the  body  of  selections  made.  The  fund  of 
information  concerning  manners  and  customs  is  extraordinarily 
rich,  but  we  can  only  choose  here  and  there,  leaving  an  ample 
harvest  for  other  workers  in  the  same  field. 


§  I.  Early  Travels 

Even  in  the  fifth  century  a.d.  a  poet  from  Lyons  called 
SiDONius  Apollinaris  undertakes  a  kind  of  classical  tour, 
quoting  Virgil  at  Cremona  and  speaking  of  Hasdrubal  at 
Fano.  Pilgrimages  to  Rome  had  already  begun  in  the  fourth 
century,  and  Charlemagne  and  our  own  Alfred  the  Great 
visited  the  holier  spots.  A  guide-book  for  strangers,  called 
the  Miribilia  Urbis  Romce,  was  written  in  the  Middle  Ages,  and 
the  earliest  manuscript  copy  extant  is  attributed  to  the  end  of 
the  twelfth  century.  An  English  version  of  this  curious  book 
was  undertaken  by  Mr.  F.  M.  Nicholls  in  1889.  The  general 
tone  of  the  Miribilia  is  much  like  that  of  the  Golden  Legend. 
In  the  memorable  year  of  Jubilee  (1300),  Villani  estimates 
200,000  pilgrims  as  being  in  the  papal  city,  and  the  historian, 
seeing  such  multitudes  of  men  in  something  of  the  spirit  which 
made  Xerxes  weep  as  he  thought  that  all  his  hosts  were  but 
mortal,  resolved  on  writing  the  history  of  Florence.  Dante 
was  probably  also  present,  and  in  the  Inferno  (cant,  xviii.) 
certainly  uses  an  image  describing  the  barrier  then  erected  on 
the  bridge  of  St.  Angelo,  so  that  those  coming  from  St.  Peter's 
and  those  going  thither  should  not  clash.  But  without  delay- 
ing unduly  on  these  travellers  (they  are  well  set  forth  in 
Ampere's  essay,  Rome  a  travers  les  Siecles  ^),  we  may  pass  to 
the  spiritual  marriage  between  English  and  Italian  poetry,  one 
which  was  to  last  uninterruptedly  for  500  years. 

Chaucer's  first  Italian  journey  was  the  result  of  a  diplomatic 
mission  in  1373,  "to  treat  with  the  duke,  citizens,  and  mer- 

1  Printed  in  the  Grke,  Rome  et  Dante  volume. 


6  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

chants  of  Genoa  for  the  purpose  of  choosing  an  English  port 
where  the  Genoese  might  form  a  commercial  establishment." 
The   editor  of  Chaucer,  the  Rev.  W.  W.  Skeat,  continues: 
"  It  was  probably  on  this  occasion  that  Chaucer  met  Petrarch 
at  Padua,  and  learnt  from  him  the  story  of  Griselda,  reproduced 
in  the  Clerkes  Tale."     To  quote  again  the  meagre  details  of  a 
second  journey  which  took  place  in  1378,  Chaucer  "was  sent 
to  Italy  with  Sir   Edward    Berkeley,   to  treat  with    Barnabo 
Visconti,  lord  of  Milan,  and  the  famous  freelance,  Sir  John 
Hawkwood,  on  certain  matters  touching  the  king's  expedition  of 
war  ...  a  phrase  of  uncertain  import."     As  to  Chaucer's  use 
of  Italian  books,  it  would  be  a  mistake  to  overestimate  par- 
ticular influences  on  his  work.    He  was  probably  unacquainted 
with   Boccaccio's  Decameron,  and  the  few  Italian  stories  used 
in  the  Canterbury  Tales  are  taken  from  Petrarch.     His  minor 
poems  are  written  on  French  models,  but  the  spirit  of  the 
longer  works  is  certainly  Italian.    Dante's  influence  is  markedly 
present   in   the   House  of  Fame,  so  far  so  that   Lydgate  ex- 
travagantly referred  to  the  poem  as  "  Dant  in  English."     The 
greater  number  of  the  tales  in  the  Legend  of  Good  Women  are 
in  Boccaccio's  De   Claris  Mulieribus.     Again  in  Troilus  a7id 
Criseyde,  Chaucer's  indebtedness  to  Boccaccio's  Filostrato  is 
over  2500  lines,  or  one-third  of  the  Italian  poem,  and  a  com- 
plete sonnet  of  Petrarch's  is  worked  into  the  narrative.     But 
for  any  detailed  statement  of  these  facts.  Prof.  Skeat's  larger 
edition  of  Chaucer  must  be  studied. 

A  very  early  traveller  in  Italy  was  Brother  Felix  Fabri  of 
Ulm,  who  arrived  at  Venice  in  1484  on  his  way  back  from 
a  pilgrimage  to  Jerusalem.  His  "faithful  description"  of 
Venice  is  mainly  historical,  but  contains  some  details  concern- 
ing commerce.  We  may  roughly  translate  from  his  monkish 
Latin  this  description  of  the  approach  by  sea:  "Presently, 
before  we  could  see  the  town  of  Venice,  we  were  seen  by  the 
watchers  on  the  tower  of  St.  Mark's,  who  ran  and  took  the 
ropes  of  the  bells,  and  began  to  ring  them  all.  As  soon  as 
the  bells  were  heard,  the  same  thing  was  done  in  all  the  towers 
and  belfries  through  the  whole  town  of  Venice ;  for  this  was 
always  done  on  the  arrival  of  the  ships.  Then  even  as  the 
stroke  of  the  clappers  was  heard,  all  who  had  friends  or 
merchandise  on  board  were  eager  to  hear  the  news ;  and 
those  who  wished  to  earn  money  by  acting  as  guides,  and 
those  whose  office  it  was  to  collect  the  customs  for  the  state, 
ran  to  sea,  and  getting  into  barques  and  boats  hastened  to 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     7 

come  to  meet  us.  Thus  even  before  we  reached  the  anchorage 
a  great  number  of  small  boats  came  from  the  town,  rowing 
round  us  and  doing  their  business." 

To  come  to  the  first  foreign  painter  visiting  Italy, 
Albrecht  Durer's  visit  to  Venice  in  1505  was  the  beginning 
of  a  very  friendly  connection  with  some  of  the  well-known 
painters.  At  Venice,  among  other  works,  Diirer  painted  an 
altar-piece  for  the  German  merchants  dwelling  in  the  town : 
this  work  is  now  in  Prague.  From  Venice  the  painter  went  to 
Bologna  and  to  Ferrara,  hoping  to  make  Mantegna's  acquaint- 
ance there,  but  the  latter's  death  prevented  it.  Letters  from 
Diirer  to  his  friend  Pirckheimer  give  some  glimpses  of  his  life 
in  Venice ;  his  work  excited  no  little  curiosity,  and  he  was  so 
astonished  that  he  remarked  on  the  honours  accorded  to  him, 
for  at  home  he  was  looked  on  as  little  more  "  than  a  hanger- 
on."  At  a  later  date,  though  no  longer  in  Italy,  Diirer  corre- 
sponded with  Raphael,  who  sent  him  a  sketch  of  a  group  for 
the  Battle  of  Ostia,  and  Diirer  sent  his  portrait  to  Raphael. 
Raphael's  engraver.  Marc  Antonio,  appears  to  have  imitated 
Diirer's  engravings,  and  the  German's  method  must  have 
aroused  much  interest  in  Italy,  for  the  Italians,  further  re- 
moved from  the  country  of  the  discovery  of  printing,  were  far 
less  advanced  in  engraving  than  in  the  other  arts.^  To 
illustrate  the  history  of  this  period,  it  may  be  remarked  that 
Diirer  went  to  Italy  hardly  half-a-dozen  years  before  the  Refor- 
mation was  introduced  into  Nuremberg. 

The  first  professed  English  record  of  travel  concerning 
Italy  is  to  be  found  in  The  Fylgrymage  of  Sir  R.  Guvlforde, 
Knyg/it,  edited  for  the  Camden  Society  in  1851  from  a  unique 
printed  copy  in  the  British  Museum.  Guylforde  went  to  Italy 
in  1506  on  his  journey  to  Palestine.  Entering  the  country  by 
way  of  Chambery  and  Aiguebelle,  he  stayed  at  Alessandria, 
and  passed  through  Cremona  and  Ferrara.  At  Padua  he  saw 
the  feast  of  St.  Antony,  and  later  at  Venice  a  festival  in  com- 
memoration of  the  capture  of  Padua.  He  refers  to  the  "  many 
great  relics  and  jewellery"  of  St.  Mark's,  to  the  "artillery  and 
engines  "  he  saw,  and  "  the  rychesse,  the  sumptuous  buyldyngs, 
the  relygyous  houses,  and  the  stablysshynge  of  their  justices 
and  counsylles."     On  Ascension  Day  he  saw  the  spousals  with 

^  The  illustrations  of  the  Dream  of  Poliphile,  printed  in  1499,  are 
admirable  in  design,  but  the  figures  are  outlines  without  any  modelling, 
except  lines  indicating  drapery.  Boldrini's  engraving  of  Titian's  l\Iilon  of 
Croiona  at  a  far  later  date  partly  shows  the  Diirer  manner. 


8  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  Adriatic  :  "  Upon  the  Ascencion  daye,  which  daye  the 
Duke,  with  a  great  tryumphe,  and  solempnyte,  with  all  the 
seygnyoury,  went  in  their  Archa  triumphali,  which  is  in  manner 
of  a  Galye  of  a  straunge  facyon  and  wonder  stately,  etc. ;  and 
so  rowed  out  into  ye  see  with  assystence  of  their  patriarche, 
and  there  spoused  ye  see  with  a  rynge.  ..."  He  also  saw 
the  festival  of  Corpus  Christi,  described  as  follows  :  "  There 
went  pagentis  of  ye  olde  lawe  and  the  newe,  joynynge  togyther 
the  figures  of  the  blessyd  sacrament  in  suche  noumbre  and  soo 
apte  and  convenyent  for  that  feeste  y*  it  wold  make  any  man 
joyous  to  se  it.  And  over  that  it  was  a  grete  marveyle  to  se 
the  grete  noumbre  of  relygyous  folkes,  and  of  scholes  that  we 
call  bretherhede  or  felysshyps,  with  theyr  devyses,  whiche  all 
bare  lyghte  of  wondre  goodly  facyon,  and  bytwene  every  of  the 
pagentis  went  lytell  children  of  bothe  kyndes,  gloryously  and 
rychely  dressyd,  berynge  in  their  hande  in  riche  cuppes  or 
other  vessaylles  some  pleasaunt  fioures  or  other  well  smellynge 
or  riche  stuffe,  dressed  as  aungelles  to  adorne  the  sayde  pro- 
cessyon.  The  forme  and  maner  thereof  exceded  all  other  that 
ever  I  sawe  so  moche  that  I  can  not  wryte  it."  Guylforde's 
account  of  Italy  hardly  occupies  five  quarto  pages  of  his  travel 
book,  but  it  was  soon  to  be  copied.  Richard  Torkyngton 
(priest  of  Mulberton,  in  Norfolk)  started  in  15 17,  travelling 
toward  Palestine  like  Guylforde;  the  diary  he  left  was  first 
printed  in  1883.  There  is  an  evident  resemblance  between 
some  particulars  narrated  by  Torkyngton  and  details  given  by 
Guylforde.  Torkyngton  copies  Guylforde's  sentence,  "the 
richesse,  the  sumptuous  buyldyng,  the  religious  houses,  &c. 
&c.,"  textually;  and  the  description  of  the  feast  of  Corpus 
Christi  is  the  same.  The  account  of  the  dinner  in  the  Doge's 
palace,  at  which  the  pilgrims  were  present,  appears  to  be  new, 
but  the  question  of  the  originality  of  Torkyngton's  Diary  must 
be  left  an  open  one,  as  he  has  further  copied  his  account  of 
Crete  from  another  book. 

Our  next  figure  of  importance  is  Martin  Luther.  We 
have  but  few  indications  of  his  visit  to  Italy  in  15 10,  when  he 
went  to  adjust  a  matter  of  business  between  his  monastery  and 
the  Pope's  vicar.  He  passed  through  Milan,  Pavia,  Bologna, 
and  Florence,  and  hastened  on  to  Rome,  desirous  of  accom- 
plishing the  purpose  of  the  proverb,  "happy  the  mother  whose 
child  shall  celebrate  mass  in  Rome  on  St.  John's  Eve."  This 
he  was  unable  to  do,  but  as  he  came  to  the  city  he  echoed  the 
traditional  prayer  of  the  pilgrims  :  "Hail,  Holy  Rome  !  made 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     9 

holy  by  the  holy  martyrs  and  by  the  blood  spilt  here."  One 
of  his  few  recorded  comments  on  Rome  was  made  years  after 
his  visit:  "I  would  not  for  a  hundred  thousand  florins  have 
missed  seeing  Rome.  I  should  have  always  felt  an  uneasy 
doubt  whether  I  was  not,  after  all,  doing  injustice  to  the  Pope. 
As  it  is,  I  am  quite  satisfied  on  the  point." 

Rabelais  was  in  Italy  (between  1532  and  1536)  in  the 
suite  of  Jean,  Cardinal  du  Bellay,  the  ambassador  sent  from 
France  to  Pope  Paul  III.  Rabelais  describes  his  intentions 
in  going  to  Rome  in  the  epistle  dedicatory  he  wrote  for 
Marlianus'  Topography  of  Rome.  He  meant  to  see  the  famous 
men,  to  collect  plants  and  drugs  for  his  medical  studies,  and 
"lastly,  to  pourtray  the  appearance  of  the  city  with  my  pen,  as 
though  with  a  pencil,  so  that  there  might  be  nothing  on  my 
return  from  abroad,  which  I  could  not  readily  furnish  to  my 
countrymen  from  my  books."  Unhappily  for  us,  though  to 
his  own  "  great  relief,"  the  researches  of  Marlianus  made  a 
new  book  unnecessary.  The  great  humorist  in  his  Letters 
describes  the  Pope  making  preparation  for  the  arrival  of 
Charles  V.  of  Spain  in  Rome  on  a  visit  to  the  Pope,  who 
housed  3000  of  his  retinue  in  his  palace.  He  comments  on 
the  Holy  Father  having  received  letters  informing  him  that 
the  "  Sophy,  King  of  the  Persians,  has  defeated  the  army  of 
the  Turk."  He  sends  his  friends,  in  Poitou,  grains  from 
Naples,  and  warns  the  gardeners  sowing  them  to  remember 
the  earlier  season  in  Italy.  He  describes,  in  a  curious 
historical  passage,  how  the  papal  bull  of  excommunication 
against  the  King  and  the  realm  of  England  was  defeated  in 
the  consistory  by  the  opposition  of  the  Cardinal  Du  Bellay. 
Rabelais'  letters  are  sixteen  in  number,  filling  some  forty  small 
pages. 

Rabelais  has  also  left  us  a  most  important  description  of  the 
festival  held  by  Cardinal  du  Bellay  at  Rome  on  the  receipt  of 
news  of  the  birth  of  the  King  of  France's  second  son  in  1549. 
A  projected  mimic  seafight  above  the  JElian  bridge  was 
prevented  by  a  rising  of  the  Tiber,  but  on  the  "  14th  of  this 
month  of  March,  the  sky  and  air  seemed  to  show  favour  to 
the  festivity."  It  began  with  bull-baiting  and  followed  with  a 
contest  of  armed  men  and  a  pageant  of  fair  women,  the  chief 
of  whom,  "  taller  and  more  conspicuous  than  all  the  others 
representing  Diana,  bore  above  her  forehead  a  silver  crescent, 
with  her  fair  hair  flowing  loosely  over  her  shoulders,  her  head 
bound  with  a  garland  of  laurel  all  intertwined  with   roses, 


lo  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

violets,  and  other  beautiful  flowers ;  she  was  clad,  over  her 
tunic  and  fardingale  of  red  crimson  damask  with  rich  em- 
broidery, with  fine  Cyprus  cloth  quite  covered  with  gold 
lacquer,  curiously  twisted  as  though  it  had  been  a  cardinal's 
rochet,  coming  half-way  down  her  leg,  and  over  that  a  leopard's 
skin  very  rare  and  costly,  fastened  with  large  gold  buttons  on 
the  left  shoulder."  1  'I'his  goddess  and  her  nymphs  are  taken 
prisoners,  but  finally  rescued  after  much  artillery  practice  and 
the  "horrible  thunderings  made  by  such  a  cannonade." 
Rabelais  refers  to  the  supper  that  closed  the  day  in  character- 
istic fashion :  "  It  might  outdo  the  celebrated  banquets  of 
several  ancient  emperors.  ...  At  this  banquet  were  served 
more  than  one  thousand  five  hundred  pieces  of  pastry ;  I 
mean  pies,  tarts,  and  meat  rolls.  If  the  viands  were  plentiful, 
so  also  were  the  tipplings  numerous."  In  the  immortal 
history  of  Pantagruel,  the  fifth  book  takes  that  hero  with 
Panurge  and  his  other  friends  to  a  place  called  Ringing 
Island,  and  this  is  evidently  a  parody  of  Rome.  It  is  towards 
the  end  of  Rabelais'  masterpiece,  and  he  does  not  extract  any 
considerable  humour  from  the  "popehawk"  {papegau)  and 
his  attendant  "clerghawks,  monkhawks,  priesthawks,  abbot- 
hawks,  bishophawks,  cardinhawks."  Rabelais  was  too  much 
of  a  Frenchman  to  take  much  interest  in  Italian  art,  and  the 
last  book  of  Pantagruel  (if  authentic  at  all)  is  admittedly 
inferior  to  its  forerunners. 

To  come  back  to  England  after  the  time  of  Chaucer, 
Italian  travel  and  study  are  at  first  only  tentatively  under- 
taken. Humphrey,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  brought  Italian 
scholars  to  England,  and  presented  many  Itahan  books  to  the 
University  of  Oxford  in  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century. 
From  that  university,  too,  "a  small  band  of  scholars"  went 
to  Italy  and  brought  back  the  precious  knowledge  of  Greek 
literature.  Mr.  Lewis  Einstein,  in  his  book  on  The  Italian 
Renaissance  in  England,  gives  us  such  facts  as  can  be  gleaned 
with  regard  to  these  literary  pilgrims.  Linacre  and  Grocyn 
were  the  most  distinguished  of  them,  and,  on  their  return 
to  Oxford,  they  taught  such  students  as  More,  Colet,  and 
Erasmus.  But  interest  in  Italian  matters  other  than  scholar- 
ship began  to  grow.  William  Thomas  {d.  1554))  clerk  of 
council  to  Edward  VI.,  was  in  Italy  from  about  1545  for  some 
five  years.  Thomas  is  said  to  have  returned  to  England 
"  highly  famed  for  his  travels  through  France  and  Italy  " ;  his 
1  From  the  rendering  of  W.  F.  Smith  (1893). 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     ii 

grammar  and  dictionary  are  certainly  the  first  published  ot 
their  kind  in  the  English  language.  His  Hisiorie  of  Italie 
(1549),  printed  in  black  letter,  concerns  not  only  the  record 
of  the  past,  but  is  to  a  great  extent  a  guide-book. 

Thomas'  knowledge  of  history  is  considerable  for  his  time. 
In  his  description  of  Rome  he  examines  the  antiquities,  but 
says  Httle  about  later  buildings  except  St.  Peter's,  and  then 
gives  brief  lives  of  the  Popes,  whom  he  calls  "bishops."  At 
Venice  he  remarks  on  the  freedom  accorded  to  strangers,  for 
"  if  thou  be  a  papist  there  shall  thou  want  no  kinde  of  super- 
stition to  find  upon.  If  thou  be  a  gospeller,  no  man  shall 
ask  why  thou  comest  not  to  church."  A  few  words  of 
characterisation  may  be  culled  from  another  page :  "  The 
common  opinion  is,  that  the  Plorentines  are  commonly  great 
talkers,  covetouse,  and  spare  of  livyng.  ...  I  continued 
there  a  certain  space  at  mine  owne  charges  and  laye  a  good 
while  with  Maister  Bartholomew  Panciatico,  one  of  the 
notablest  citesins,  where  I  never  saw  the  fare  so  slendere, 
but  any  honest  gentilman  woulde  have  been  right  well 
contented  withall.  And  yet  I  dare  avowe,  he  exceded  not 
the  ordinarie.  Besydes  that  the  fine  service,  the  sweetnesse 
of  the  houses,  the  good  ordre  of  all  things,  and  the  familiar 
conversacion  of  those  men,  were  enough  to  feede  a  man  ;  if 
without  meate  men  might  be  fedde."  Thomas  considered 
the  Florentine  women  more  virtuous  than  the  Venetians,  and 
the  lower  classes  very  religious ;  he  admits  that  the  gentlemen 
are  fond  of  talking,  but  he  pleads  their  love  of  eloquence. 

Sir  Thomas  Hoby,  the  translator  of  Castiglione's  Corte- 
giano,  travelled  in  Italy  in  1549  and  subsequent  years,  and 
has  left  a  brief  diary  in  his  Booke  of  the  Travaile  and  lief  of 
me  Thomas  Hoby  (MS.  Brit.  Mus.  Eg.  2148  Farnb.).  He 
was  in  Venice  and  Padua  for  about  a  year,  and  intersperses  a 
brief  account  of  things  seen  with  plentiful  classical  references. 
Hoby  found  Florence  occupied  by  a  garrison  of  Spanish 
soldiers,  and  at  Rome  he  found  a  papal  conclave  taking  place. 
The  following  remarks  on  Rome  are  a  specimen  of  Hoby's 
style  :  "  When  I  came  there  and  beheld  the  wonderful  majesty 
of  buildings  that  the  only  roots  thereof  do  yet  represent  the 
huge  temples,  the  infinite  great  palaces,  the  immeasurable 
pillars,  most  part  of  one  piece,  fine  marble  and  well  wrought, 
the  goodly  arches  of  triumph,  the  bains,  the  conduits  of  water, 
the  images  as  well  of  brass  as  of  marble,  the  obelisks,  and  a 
number  of  other  like  things  not  to  be  found  again  throughout 


12  THE    BOOK    OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

an  wliole  world  ;  imagining  wilhal,  what  majesty  the  city 
might  be  of,  when  all  these  things  flourished  ;  then  did  it 
grieve  me  to  see  the  only  Jewell,  mirror,  mistress  and  beauty 
of  this  world  that  never  had  her  like  nor  (as  I  think)  never 
shall,  lie  so  desolate  and  disfigured." 

In  1568  Miguel  de  Cervantes  went  to  Italy  as  camarero 
in  the  train  of  Julio  Acquaviva,  the  Papal  Nuncio  returning 
from  the  Court  of  Spain.  Travelling  along  the  southern  coast 
of  France  and  thence  down  to  Rome,  Cervantes  may  have 
obtained  on  the  journey  some  of  the  atmosphere  of  beauty 
with  which  he  surrounds  his  romance  Galatea.  The  book, 
however,  has  the  general  flavour  of  Italian  prose  pastorals, 
and  is  more  a  fine  literary  exercise  than  a  transcript  of  life 
and  its  humours.  Mr.  H.  E.  Watts  reminds  us  that  Spaniards 
were  scarcely  strangers  in  Rome  at  a  time  when  Spain  "  was 
absolutely  mistress  of  Lombardy  and  of  Naples,"  when  Tus- 
cany was  under  its  protection,  and  the  Pope  practically  under 
its  authority. 

Montaigne  was  a  sceptic  of  the  Renaissance,  less  open 
than  Luther,  less  epicurean  than  Rabelais ;  in  his  character  as 
a  polished  gentleman  he  is  peculiarly  fitted  to  describe  the 
social  Italy  of  his  time.  As  Stendhal  points  out,  Montaigne 
does  not  even  mention  Michael  Angelo  or  Raphael,  and  ad- 
miration of  scenery  had  not  then  influenced  the  French.  His 
journey  is  dated  1580,  and  occupied  seventeen  months  and 
eight  days ;  the  manuscript  lay  for  a  long  time  undiscovered, 
until  a  historian  in  quest  of  material  obtained  leave  of  the 
Comte  de  Segur,  the  later  occupant  of  the  chateau  of  Montaigne, 
to  search  its  records.  There  can  be  no  doubt  of  the  genuineness 
o[  \he  Journal  du  Voyage;  it  was  published  in  1774,  and  later 
on  translated  into  English  by  William  Hazlitt  (the  son  of  the 
essayist)  in  1842.  The  journey  was  at  first  dictated  to  an 
amanuensis,  but  presently  Montaigne  takes  it  up  with  his  own 
hand.  It  contains  frequent  references  to  the  state  of  his 
health,  and  in  many  cases  the  narration  is  dull  or  trivial. 
Here,  as  in  every  author  quoted  in  our  extracts,  some  severity 
has  been  necessary.  The  general  purpose  of  giving  a  living 
picture  of  the  Italian  towns  is  more  important  than  details  of 
extreme  interest  in  personal  biography.  Montaigne,  for  in- 
stance, was  made  a  Roman  citizen  in  1581;^  he  had  some 
trouble  with  the  papal  agent  about  his  Essays ;  but  such  facts 

^  He  gives  the  text  of  the  patent  in  the  third  book  of  his  Essays, 
written  subsequently  to  the  Italian  journey. 


THE   SCHOOL   OF    HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     13 

can  only  briefly  be  mentioned,  and  do  not  belong  to  our 
scheme.  Montaigne  expresses  the  general  regret  of  the  classi- 
cists about  Rome  when  (as  the  amanuensis  wrote  from  his 
dictation)  :  "  He  observed  that  there  is  nothing  to  be  seen  of 
ancient  Rome  but  the  sky  under  which  it  had  risen  and  stood, 
and  the  outline  of  its  form ;  that  the  knowledge  he  had  of  it 
was  altogether  abstract  and  contemplative,  no  image  of  it 
remaining  to  satisfy  the  senses  ;  that  those  who  said  that  the 
ruins  of  Rome  at  least  remained,  said  more  than  they  were 
warranted  in  saying ;  for  the  ruins  of  so  stupendous  and  awful 
a  fabric  would  enforce  more  honour  and  reverence  for  its 
memory; — nothing,  he  said,  remained  of  Rome  but  its 
sepulchre." 

Another  Frenchman  who  wrote  on  Italy  was  the  poet 
Joachim  Du  Bellay,  whose  verses  on  the  antiquities,  the 
grandeur,  and  the  fall  of  Rome  are  gracefully  rhetorical.  He 
expresses,  however,  a  characteristically  French  preference  for 
his  own  country  of  Anjou  : 

"  Plus  me  plait  le  sejour  qu'ont  bati  mes  aieux, 
Que  des  palais  remains  le  front  audacieux, 
Plus  que  le  marbre  dur  me  plait  I'ardoise  fine  ; 

"  Plus  mon  Loyre  gaulois  que  le  Tiber  latin, 
Plus  mon  petit  Lyre  que  le  mont  Palatin, 
Et  plus  que  I'air  marin  la  douceur  angevine." 

Du  Bellay's  Visions  of  Rome  were  translated  by  Spenser. 

The  Earl  of  Surrey  (Henry  Howard,  I5i7?-i547)  was 
never  in  Italy,  and  the  tale  connecting  him  with  a  fair  lady 
called  Geraldine,  whose  cause  he  espoused  in  the  lists  of 
Florence,  is  derived  from  the  misreading  of  a  novel  by  Thomas 
Nash,  called  The  Unfortunate  Traveller  {i^g^).  Surrey,  in- 
deed, was  the  first  English  writer  who  imitated  Italian  sonnets 
successfully ;  and  if  the  tale  of  his  journey  is  incorrect,  the 
sixteenth-century  novel  which  he  inspired  is  not  without  its 
interest.  The  chief  claim  of  this  novel  was  first  pointed  out 
by  M.  J.  J.  Jusserand,  who  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  Shake- 
speare found  hints  for  his  Falstaff  in  it.  The  tale  contains 
some  realistic  pictures  of  life  in  Italy  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  narrating  "strange  accidents,  treasons,  poisonings," 
with  a  conclusion  that  shows  a  curious  Puritan  note  of  re- 
pentance. The  book  has  been  lately  reprinted  with  a  preface 
by  Mr.  Edmund  Gosse  (1892). 

Sir  Philip  Sidney  was  in  Padua  and  Venice  in  1573.     In 


14  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

the  latter  town  his  portrait  was  painted  by  Paolo  Veronese, 
but  the  original  is  now  lost.  Sidney  was  advised  by  a  severely 
Protestant  friend  not  to  go  to  Rome,  and  he  therefore  stayed 
away.  Young  Englishmen  did  not  always  come  back  entirely 
improved  by  their  southern  experiences.  Ascham,  the  gentle 
master  of  Lady  Jane  Grey,  was  only  nine  days  in  Italy,  but  he 
tells  us  that  he  saw  "  in  that  little  time,  in  one  city,  more  liberty 
to  sin,  than  ever  I  heard  tell  of  in  our  noble  city  of  London  in 
nine  years."  Robert  Greene,  the  dramatist,  admits  that  he 
"  saw  and  practised  on  his  Italian  travels  such  villainy  as  it  is 
abomination  to  describe."  Sir  Philip  Sidney  has  admitted  the 
dangers  of  Italy,  but  remarks  that  he  is  acquainted  with  "  divers 
noble  personages  .  .  .  whom  all  the  siren  songs  of  Italy  could 
never  untwine  from  the  mast  of  God's  Word."  The  poet 
Spenser,  a  kindred  spirit  and  friend  of  the  author  of  the 
Arcadia,  never  went  to  Italy. 

Sir  Robert  Dallington  (1561-1637),  afterwards  Master 
of  Charterhouse,  travelled  in  Italy  in  1596,  and  his  Survey  of 
the  Great  Duke's  State  of  Tiiscany  was  printed  in  1605. 
Dallington  had  earned  means  to  travel  as  a  schoolmaster,  and 
he  arranged  his  "discourse"  in  a  very  precise  manner,  under 
"  cosmographie,  chorographie,"  and  so  forth.  The  book,  which 
is  of  sixty-six  quarto  pages,  is  in  the  first  part  more  properly 
a  treatise,  deaUng  especially  with  history,  fortifications,  and 
natural  products.  Few  instances  of  a  later  date  can  be  found 
of  references  to  fortresses  or  artillery  ;  we  may  take  it  that 
Italy  at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century  still  preserved  some 
of  its  military  reputation.  Dallington  gives  a  pedigree  of  the 
Medici  family,  and  then  elaborately  describes  the  arms,  style, 
title,  court,  expenses,  and  coinage  of  the  Grand  Duke.  The 
book  ends  with  a  sententious  description  of  the  Florentine 
character.  Following  Boterus,  Dallington  says  the  Florentines 
are  "niggards,  they  live  to  themselves,  they  love  no  strangers, 
they  are  close-fisted,  they  have  an  eye  to  the  backe  doore, 
they  are  hard  to  be  sounded,  they  are  ever  biting  the  lip,  their 
mind  ever  on  their  pennie,  their  study  still  how  to  gaine. 
Also,  they  are  men  of  a  shrewd  wit,  of  a  spare  dyet,  of  a 
warie  and  discreet  carriage,  very  industrious,  very  apt  to  learne, 
they  proceede  for  an  inch,  they  stand  upon  the  advantage." 
When  we  think  of  the  millions  which  Florentine  usurers  in 
early  times  lent  our  English  kings  (money  which,  in  the  case 
of  Peruzzi's  loan  to  Edward  IV.,  was  not  repaid),  we  can 
understand  this  description  of  a  business-like  people,  out  of 


THE   SCHOOL   OF    HUMANISM   AND   TASTE     15 

accordance  as  the  picture  is  with  our  ideas  of  artistic  Florence. 
The  English  schoolmaster  does  not  think  much  of  Italian 
education,  and  complains  :  "  As  for  their  liberall  sciences,  it 
is  not  seen  in  their  schooles,  where  in  one  universitie  ye  shall 
scarce  finde  two  that  are  good  Grecians,  without  the  which 
tongue  they  hold  in  our  schooles  in  England  a  man  never 
deserveth  the  reputation  of  learned."  The  fact  is  that  Greek 
studies  fell  into  abeyance  with  the  Catholic  reaction.  Among 
the  few  references  to  the  arts  is  the  following  concerning 
Florence  :  "  This  towne  hath  had  famous  men  in  painting  and 
poetry ;  and  I  verily  thinke  that  heerein  Italy  generally  excel- 
leth.  And  no  marvell,  when  all  their  time  is  spent  in  amours, 
and  all  their  churches  deckt  with  colours."  Granting  that 
Dallington  has  the  pedagogic  mind,  his  expression  "deckt  with 
colours  "  is  a  not  unfair  gauge  of  the  uneducated  sensation  of 
pleasure  which  will  take  many  years  to  grow  to  the  scientific 
appreciation  of  the  art  of  Italy. 

A  traveller  of  importance  in  Italy  is  Rubens,  who  arrived 
in  Venice  in  1600.  Here  some  of  his  pictures  or  sketches 
were  shown  to  a  gentleman  of  the  household  of  Vincent 
Gonzaga,  Duke  of  Mantua,  who  engaged  the  young  painter, 
then  in  his  twenty-third  year.  No  paintings  of  Rubens 
are  at  present  to  be  traced  in  the  palace  at  Mantua.  In 
1 60 1  the  painter  went  to  Rome,  where  he  made  numerous 
studies,  among  them  one  in  red  chalk  after  Michael  Angelo's 
Creation  of  Woman  and  another  in  charcoal  after  the  lower 
left-hand  portion  of  Raphael's  Transfiguration,  sketches  now 
in  the  Louvre.  Rubens  was  still  in  the  employ  of  the  Duke, 
and  was  to  remain  so  for  eight  years;  in  1603  he  went  with 
an  envoy  to  deliver  some  pictures  and  presents  from  the 
Duke  to  the  rapacious  Court  of  Spain.  Returning  to  Mantua, 
Rubens  painted  an  important  Trinity,  and  also  a  Transfigura- 
tion, now  at  Nancy.  In  1606  we  find  him  studying  the  antique 
in  Rome,  and  making  an  oil-copy  of  Caravaggio's  Entombment. 
The  Duke  of  Mantua  probably  employed  him  to  buy  pictures 
there,  and  Rubens'  stay  in  Italy,  like  that  of  Velasquez  later, 
shows  how  desirous  the  reigning  princes  of  Italy  and  other 
countries  were  of  obtaining  works  of  art,  although  many  were 
just  as  anxious  to  obtain  them  for  as  small  sums  as  possible. 
Rubens  himself  was  not  overpaid  by  Vincent  Gonzaga. 

To  the  question  whether  Shakespeare  ever  visited  Italy,  a 
negative  is  the  only  reply  to  be  made.  "  To  Italy,  it  is  true," 
writes  Mr.  Sidney  Lee,  "and  especially  to  cities  of  Northern 


1 6     THE  BOOK  OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

Italy,  like  Venice,  Padua,  Verona,  Mantua,  and  Milan,  he 
makes  frequent  and  familiar  reference,  and  he  supplied  many 
a  realistic  portrayal  of  Italian  life  and  sentiment.  But  the 
fact  that  he  represents  Valentine  in  the  Two  Gentlemen  of 
Verona  (I.  i.  71)  as  travelling  from  Verona  to  Milan  by  sea, 
and  Prospero  in  the  Tempest  as  embarking  on  a  ship  at  the 
gates  of  Milan  (I.  ii.  129-44),  renders  it  almost  impossible 
that  he  could  have  gathered  his  knowledge  of  Northern  Italy 
from  personal  observation.  He  doubtless  owed  all  to  the 
verbal  r  ports  of  travelled  friends  or  to  books,  the  contents  of 
which  he  had  a  rare  power  of  assimilating  and  vitalising." 
While  agreeing  with  Mr.  Sidney  Lee's  opinion  in  the  main 
issue,  we  may  remark  that  Shakespeare  does  not  say  that 
Valentine  travelled  by  sea,  but  that  he  "embarked"  for  Milan. 
Much  of  the  intercourse  between  the  northern  towns  was  by 
canal  and  river,  and  with  the  connecting  canals  between  the 
towns  and  the  Adige,  the  Po  and  the  Adda,  a  journey  by 
water  was  perfectly  feasible  between  Verona  and  Milan.  The 
reference  to  the  Tempest^  however,  is  more  debatable,  and 
would  depend  on  the  precise  meaning  of  the  expression  "  bore 
us  some  leagues  to  sea."  As  to  the  books  Shakespeare  may 
have  read,  Hoby's  was  in  manuscript.  Sir  Robert  Dallington's 
Survey  was  printed  when  several  of  Shakespeare's  Italian  plays 
were  already  written.  The  Itinerary  of  Fynes  Moryson  was 
not  printed  till  16 17.  Shakespeare  may  very  well  have  read 
the  Cortegiano  in  its  English  dress,  as  also  Guazzo's  sketch  of 
manners  at  the  Court  of  Ferrara,  translated  in  1586.  The 
book  of  Saviolo,  a  fencing-master  settled  in  England,  was  pub- 
lished in  1695,  and  gives  details  as  to  the  duello.  We  may 
venture  to  differ  from  Mr.  Lee's  phrase  "realistic  portrayal 
of  Italian  life."  The  realism  produced  by  travel  is  to  be 
found  in  Nash's  Unfortunate  Traveller ;  Shakespeare's  Italy 
is  uniformly  that  of  the  Italian  novelists  as  far  as  local  colour 
is  concerned.^  No  doubt  it  is  curious  that  so  few  travel-books 
on  Italy  exist  before  1600,  but  it  will  be  found  that  nearly  all 
literary  travel  begins  about  that  date,  excepting  perhaps  in  the 
case  of  Eastern  voyages.  Among  Shakespeare's  friends  may 
very  possibly  have  been  John  Florio,  Italian  tutor  to  the  Earl 
of  Southampton  and  the  author  of  an  Italian-English  Dictionary 
published  in  1596.  Florio  was  the  son  of  an  Italian  who  had 
left  Italy  owing  to  politics,  much  as  Rossetti's  father  did  in  the 

'  Except   in   the   character   of   lago,    who   is   a   typical    Renaissance 
Italian. 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     17 

nineteenth  century.  As  Rossetti  had  the  bilingual  gift  which 
enabled  him  to  make  the  early  Italian  poets  familiar  to  English 
readers,  so  Florio  assisted  the  current  of  Italian  culture,  and 
in  addition  to  this  was  the  translator  of  Montaigne's  Essays. 

The  briefest  digression  may  be  permitted  here  to  illustrate 
the  indebtedness  of  the  Elizabethan  age  to  Italian  literature. 
Spenser  in  his  Faery  Queen  had  imitated  the  Italian  epics, 
and  his  Platonism  was  purely  of  Italian  origin  ;  in  common 
with  many  other  writers  he  had  written  sonnets,  which,  if  not 
on  the  Italian  model,  were  in  imitation  of  Italian  fancy. 
Warton,  in  his  History  of  English  Poetry,  tells  us  that  many 
Italian  books  were  translated  as  a  result  of  our  trade  with 
Italy.  Grammars  and  dictionaries  were  necessary  for  mer- 
chants;  but  in  1566  William  Paynter  issued  a  first  collection 
of  novels  called  The  Palace  of  Pleasure,  containing  sixty  novels 
out  of  Boccacio.  It  was  from  this  and  other  translations  of 
Italian  novels  that  Shakespeare  and  other  dramatists  drew 
many  of  the  plots  whose  Italian  beauty  and  extravagance  they 
balanced  with  British  strength  and  humour.  It  would  not  be 
possible  to  speak  too  highly  of  the  value  of  Italian  inspiration 
to  English  minds,  but  it  is  fair  to  point  out  that  a  tale  like 
Rojneo  and  Juliet  found  a  more  complete  setting  in  its  new 
home.  Apart  from  dramatic  tales,  it  may  be  noted  that  both 
Tasso  and  Ariosto  were  Englished  before  1600  by  Fairfax  and 
by  Sir  John  Harrington  respectively,  and  even  apart  from 
such  books,  English  manners  were  already  Italianised  by  the 
Cortegiano.  Mr.  Einstein's  book,  already  referred  to,  gives 
an  excellent  account  of  this  period. 

An  Elizabethan  traveller  who  was  Shakespeare's  contem- 
porary is  FvNES  MoRYSON,  whose  Itinerary  describes  journeys 
begun  as  early  as  1591.  After  traversing  the  Netherlands, 
Germany,  and  Switzerland,  Moryson  finds  himself  in  Italy  in 
1594.  Much  of  his  book  is  a  compilation  from  the  learned 
authors  of  the  time,  but  where  Moryson  gives  us  his  own 
experiences  they  are  of  the  highest  value.  Especially  do  they 
interpret  for  us  the  one  main  factor,  the  religious  spirit  and 
furthermore  the  enormous  inquisitorial  power  of  the  Church. 
Moryson  notes  at  Rome  :  "  Easter  was  now  at  hand,  and  the 
priests  came  to  take  our  names  in  our  lodging,  and  when  we 
demanded  the  cause,  they  told  us  that  it  was  to  no  other  end 
but  to  know  if  any  received  not  the  Communion  at  that  holy 
time,  which,  when  we  heard,  we  needed  no  spurs  to  make 
haste   from    Rome   into   the   State   of   Florence."     Moryson 

B 


i8  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

indicates  that  the  position  of  heretics  in  Rome  had  been 
most  hazardous  till  the  defeat  of  the  Spanish  Armada.  When 
riding  near  Florence,  Moryson  was  imprudent  enough  to  break 
off  a  mulberry  branch  to  shade  himself  from  the  sun,  but  was 
warned  in  time  that  the  trees  were  preserved  by  the  Grand 
Duke  for  the  silkworms,  and  that  there  were  heavy  penalties 
for  touching  them.  Concerning  diet  and  the  price  of  food 
Moryson  is  very  full  of  information.  He  writes  :  "  In  general 
the  Italians,  and  more  especially  the  Florentines,  are  most  neat 
at  the  table,  and  in  their  inns  from  morning  to  night  the  tables 
are  spread  with  white  cloaths,  strewed  with  flowers  and  fig 
leaves,  with  Ingestars  or  glasses  of  divers  coloured  wines  set 
upon  them,  and  delicate  fruits,  which  would  invite  a  man  to 
eat  and  drink,  who  otherwise  hath  no  appetite,  being  all  open 
to  the  sight  of  passengers  as  they  ride  the  highway,  through 
their  great  unglazed  windows.  ...  In  cities  where  many  take 
chambers  in  one  house,  they  eat  at  a  common  table,  but  each 
man  hath  his  own  food  provided.  .  .  .  And  at  the  table,  per- 
haps one  man  hath  a  hen,  another  a  piece  of  flesh,  a  third 
poached  eggs,  and  each  man  several  meat  after  his  diet."  As 
an  illustration  of  the  disguises  women  assume  in  the  Novels, 
we  may  quote  Moryson's  statement :  "I  have  seen  honourable 
women,  as  well  married,  as  virgins,  ride  by  the  highway  in 
Princes'  trains,  apparelled  like  men,  in  a  doublet  close  to  the 
body  and  large  breeches  open  at  the  knees."  A  curious 
description  is  that  of  the  Dutch  lady  on  the  road  to  Rome, 
"  and  her  gentlewomen  and  men-servants  all  in  the  habit  of 
Franciscan  friars,"  going  a  pilgrimage  "  for  the  satisfaction  of 
their  sins."  Concerning  the  supremacy  of  Italy  as  the  school 
of  humanism,  this  may  be  quoted :  "  I  stayed  all  this  winter 
at  Padua,  in  which  famous  university  I  desired  to  perfect  my 
Italian  tongue.  .  .  .  Gentlemen  of  all  nations  came  thither  in 
great  numbers,  .  .  .  some  to  study  the  civil  law,  others  the 
mathematics  and  music,  others  to  ride,  to  practise  the  art  of 
fencing,  and  the  exercises  of  dancing." 

There  is  one  side  of  Italian  travel  that  we  can  only 
glance  at  in  the  influence  of  Inigo  Jones.  He  first  went  to 
Italy  in  about  1603,  where  he  studied  architecture  and  devoted 
much  attention  to  the  ruins  of  ancient  buildings.  Again  in 
1613  he  was  purchasing  works  of  art  for  the  Earl  of  Arundel. 
It  was  through  Inigo  Jones  that  Italian  decoration  was  intro- 
duced into  our  drama.  Coryatt  describes  a  playhouse  at 
Venice  as  being  very  inferior  to  English  ones,  but  he  does  not 


THE   SCHOOL  OF   HUMANISM   AND   TASTE     19 

appear  to  refer  to  scenery.  It  was  fortunate  for  Shakespeare 
that  he  had  formed  his  art  before  pictorial  realism  robbed  the 
drama  of  the  poetry  which  had  suggested  the  background. 
Inigo  Jones  originated  the  English  study  of  Palladian  architec- 
ture, and  through  him  it  was  handed  down  to  Sir  Christopher 
Wren. 


§  2.  Travellers  from  Coryatt  to  Evelyn 

The  real  succession  of  literary  travels  now  begins  with 
Coryatt's  Crudities,  which  is  the  result  of  a  journey  to  Venice 
in  1608  by  way  of  Paris,  Lyons,  Turin,  and  Milan.  It  is  a 
very  quaint  book,  full  of  conceit  and  eccentricity.  The  follow- 
ing description  of  Venice  is  a  specimen  of  Thomas  Coryatt's 
style  :  "  The  fairest  place  of  all  the  citie  (which  is  indeed  of 
admirable  and  incomparable  beauty,  that  I  thinke  no  place 
whatsoever,  eyther  in  Christendome  or  Pagenisme,  may  com- 
pare with  it)  is  the  Piazza,  that  is,  the  market-place  of  St. 
Marke,  or  (as  our  English  merchants  commorant  in  Venice 
doe  call  it)  the  place  of  S.  Marke,  in  Latin  Forum  or  Platea 
Di  Marci.  Truly  such  is  the  stupendious  (to  use  a  strange 
Epitheton  for  so  strange  and  rare  a  place  as  this)  glory  of  it, 
that  at  my  first  entrance  thereof  it  did  even  amaze  or  rather 
ravish  my  senses."  Coryatt's  account  of  Venice  (the  principal 
town  he  describes  in  Italy)  is  a  delightful  personal  experience, 
and  it  is  with  extreme  regret  we  have  omitted  its  most  import- 
ant pages.  The  time  had  not  come  for  distinguishing  the 
differences  that  mark  Venice  off  from  other  towns. 

Coryatt,  as  a  traveller  to  the  India  which  was  afterwards  to 
become  the  brightest  gem  in  the  British  crown,  deserves  to  be 
printed  apart  and  in  his  entirety.^ 

A  rare  illustrated  book  of  travels  is  that  of  George  Sandys 
(1578-1644),  a  son  of  an  Archbishop  of  York.  His  journey 
began  in  16 10,  and  shows  him  setting  forth  from  Venice  by 
sea  to  go  to  Turkey,  Egypt,  and  Palestine.  On  his  way  back 
he  saw  the  southern  part  of  Italy,  which  he  describes  at  the 
end  of  his  volume,  published  in  161 5.  To  towns  like  Florence 
and  Bologna  he  only  makes  a  passing  reference,  but  he  tells 
us  the  history  of  Naples  and  the  adjoining  towns  with  frequent 
classical  allusions.     The  book  has  curious  engravings  which 

^  Coryatt  was  surprised  to  find  that  forks  were  in  use  in  Italy,  and 
took  the  custom  home.  With  his  love  of  notoriety,  he  was  highly  pleased 
to  be  called y«;-<:7/6';-,  or  "fork-bearer,"  by  his  friends. 


20  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

enhance  its  interest,  but  the  descriptions  do  not  afford  us  any 
useful  matter.  One  story,  however,  may  be  preserved.  "  In 
the  south,"  says  the  writer,  "  a  certaine  Calabrian,  hearing  that 
I  was  an  I^Lnglishman,  came  to  me  and  would  needs  persuade 
me  that  I  had  insight  in  magicke  :  for  that  Earl  Bethel  was 
my  countryman,  who  lives  at  Naples,  and  is  in  those  parts 
famous  for  suspected  necromancie.  He  told  me  that  he  had 
a  treasure  hidden  in  his  house ;  the  quantity  and  qualitie 
shewne  him  by  a  boy,  upon  the  conjuration  of  a  Knight  of 
Malta  :  and  offered  to  share  it  between  us  if  I  could  helpe 
him  unto  it.  But  I  answered  that  in  England  we  were  at 
defiance  with  the  divell ;  and  that  he  would  do  nothing  for 
us."  The  peasants  in  the  south  to-day  have  the  same  belief 
in  buried  treasure,  if  less  faith  in  the  necromantic  powers  of 
Englishmen. 

Sir  Henry  Wotton  was  British  Ambassador  at  Venice  in 
three  distinct  periods  faUing  between  1604-24.  The  letters 
in  his  Reliquiic  deal  mostly  with  politics,  but  some  refer- 
ences to  Paolo  Sarpi  are  of  particular  interest.  The  English- 
man would  naturally  be  the  friend  and  admirer  of  the  monk 
who  caused  the  Venetians  to  set  at  naught  a  papal  interdict. 
Herein  Paolo  Sarpi  was  more  fortunate  than  Savonarola,  for 
his  fellow-citizens  upheld  him  in  the  long  polemic  with  the 
Vatican,  and  he  finally  died  at  a  good  old  age.  Wotton  and 
Paolo  Sarpi  appear  to  have  taught  each  other  English  and 
Italian.  It  was  towards  the  end  of  the  ambassador's  stay  in 
Venice,  in  16 iS,  that  the  Republic  was  threatened  by  the 
conspiracy  of  which  Otway  gives  a  dramatic,  if  exaggerated, 
rendering  in  his  play  Venice  Preserved. 

The  Familiar  Letters  of  James  Howell,  published  1641, 
comprise  some  letters  written  from  Italy  in  162 1,  but  the 
recent  editors  express  a  doubt  as  to  whether  many  of  Howell's 
letters  were  not  written  when  he  was  a  prisoner  in  the  Fleet, 
rather  than  from  abroad.  Undoubtedly  he  had  travelled,  but 
his  Italian  letters  have  neither  the  interest  nor  picturesqueness 
of  Evelyn's.  Howell's  Instructions  for  Forreine  Travel  were 
printed  in  1642,  and  in  the  Italian  section  warn  young 
travellers  against  "  brokers  of  manuscripts,"  who  under 
pretence  of  offering  valuable  historical  documents  sell  "old 
flat  things  "  that  are  already  in  print.  The  general  comment 
on  the  passions  of  Italians  is  that  the  traveller  will  "find 
Vertue  and  Vice,  Love  and  Hatred,  Atheisme  and  Religion  in 
their  extremes."     Howell  especially  recommends  the  traveller 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM   AND   TASTE     21 

"  to  see  the  Treasurie  of  St.  Mark  and  Arsenall  of  Venice  ;  the 
Mount  of  Piety  " — (the  original  of  the  French  mont  de  picfc,  or 
state-pawnshop) — "  in  Naples  ;  the  Dome  and  Castle  of  Milan  ; 
the  proud  palaces  in  and  about  Genoua;  St.  Peter's  Church, 
the  Vatican,  and  other  magnificent  structures  in  Rome."  A 
remark  which  he  makes,  in  which  we  would  heartily  follow 
him,  is  "  the  most  materiall  use  ...  of  Forraine  Travel  is  to 
find  out  something  that  may  bee  applyable  to  the  publique 
utility  of  one's  own  countrey." 

The  first  visit  of  Velasquez  to  Italy  is  dated  1 630-1,  and 
opens  with  a  residence  at  Venice.  Palomino  tells  us  that  "  he 
was  much  pleased  with  the  paintings  of  Titian,  Tintoretto, 
Paolo" — Veronese — "and  other  artists  of  that  school;  there- 
fore he  drew  incessantly  the  whole  time  he  was  there ;  and 
especially  he  made  studies  from  Tintoretto's  famous  Cruci- 
fixion.^ ..."  On  leaving  Venice  he  was  very  anxious  to  get 
to  Rome,  where  we  are  told  by  Pacheco  that  "he  received 
many  favours  from  the  Cardinal  Barberini,  the  Pope's  nephew, 
at  whose  request  he  obtained  a  residence  in  the  Vatican 
Palace.  They  gave  him  the  keys  of  some  rooms  and  the 
chief  apartment  painted  in  fresco  with  scenes  from  the  Bible 
by  Federigo  Zuccari  and  others.  But  he  gave  up  this  resi- 
dence because  it  was  too  much  out  of  the  way,  and  he  did 
not  like  to  be  so  much  alone.  All  he  required  was  to  be  let 
in  freely  by  the  watch  when  he  wanted  to  draw — for  instance, 
Michael  Angelo's  Last  Judgment,  or  things  by  Raphael. 
There  he  appeared  many  long  days,  and  made  great  progress." 
He  settled  for  two  months  in  or  near  the  Medici  Palace  on  the 
Trinita  de'  Monti,  and  there  painted  the  sketch  of  the  garden 
that  is  now  in  the  Prado.  Another  direct  transcript  from 
nature  is  that  of  the  Arch  of  Titus.  It  is  said  that  Velasquez 
ordered  for  the  King  of  Spain  twelve  pictures  by  the  best 
masters  in  Italy,  but  Justi  reminds  us  that  "not  one  of 
the  twelve  pictures  reached  its  destination."  Undoubtedly 
Velasquez  brought  back  some  pictures  for  the  King  from 
Rome.  At  Naples  he  became  acquainted  with  the  Spaniard 
Ribera,  painter  to  the  Viceroy.  Velasquez's  first  journey  was 
mainly  that  of  a  painter  desirous  of  learning,  the  second  was 
more  motived  by  the  necessity  of  obtaining  pictures  and  casts 
from  the  antique  for  the  Alcazar  at  Madrid,  and  is  dated  1649, 
He  found  that  good  pictures  were  difficult  to  obtain  in  Venice, 
but  he  bought  a  Tintoretto  and  a  Veronese.  Velasquez  was 
^  In  the  Scuola  di  San  Rocco. 


2  2     THE  BOOK  OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

in  Rome  in  1650,  and  the  record  exists  of  a  conversation  with 
Salvator  Rosa,  in  which  Velasquez  expressed  but  a  poor 
opinion  of  Raphael.  In  this  year  he  painted  the  portrait  of 
Pope  Innocent  X. ;  he  also  obtained  castings  of  thirty-two 
statues,  of  ancient  statuary,  and  of  the  head  of  Michael 
Angelo's  Moses.  He  had  endeavoured  to  obtain  some 
Correggios,  and  especially  the  Nativity,  from  Modena,  but  in 
this  case  was  unsuccessful. 

Richard  Lassels  (i 603-1 668)  is  one  of  the  few  English 
Roman  Catholics  who  have  written  about  Italy.  He  made  his 
journeys  into  Italy  as  tutor  of  various  young  noblemen.  His 
travels  were  posthumously  published  in  1670,  but  probably 
refer  to  journeys  made  in  1630-40,  though  some  few  references 
in  the  book  are  of  later  date.  The  style  is  fresh  and  frank  and 
not  without  poetic  imagery.  Observing  that  the  houses  in 
Genoa  lack  in  breadth  but  take  it  out  in  height,  he  adds  that 
the  town  "looked  in  my  eye  like  a  proud  young  lady  in  a 
straight  bodyed  flowered  gowne,  which  makes  her  look  tall 
indeed  and  fine,  but  hinders  her  from  being  at  her  ease  and 
taking  breath  freely."  A  comic  note  comes  in  when  he  says 
that  the  women  look  like  "haycocks  with  armes  and  heads." 
Lassels'  account  of  Italy  is  not  overdone  with  classical  quota- 
tions. Though  it  is  more  a  guide-book  than  a  travel-book,  he 
supplies  us  with  the  following  comment  on  character : 

"As  for  the  Italian  humour,  it  is  a  middling  humour, 
between  too  much  gravity  of  the  Spaniard,  and  too  great  levity 
of  the  French.  Their  gravity  is  not  without  some  fire,  nor 
their  levity  without  fleame.  They  are  apish  enough  in 
carnevall  time,  and  upon  their  stages,  as  long  as  the  visard 
is  on  ;  but  that  once  off,  they  are  too  wise  to  play  the  fooles 
in  their  own  names,  and  own  it  with  their  owne  faces.  They 
have  strong  fancies  and  yet  solid  judgments,  a  happy  temper, 
which  makes  them  great  preachers,  politicians,  and  ingeniers ; 
but  withall  they  are  a  little  too  melancholy  and  jealous ;  they 
are  great  lovers  of  their  brethren  and  of  neare  kindred  as  the 
first  friends  they  are  acquainted  withall  by  nature,  and  if  any 
of  them  lye  in  passe  and  fair  for  advancement,  all  the  rest  of 
his  relations  will  lend  him  their  purses,  as  well  as  their  shoulders 
to  help  him  up,  though  he  be  but  their  younger  brother.  They 
are  sparing  in  dyet,  both  for  to  live  in  health  and  to  live  hand- 
somely, making  their  bellies  contribute  to  the  maintenance  of 
their  backs,  and  their  kitchen  help  to  the  keeping  of  their 
stables.     They  are  ambitious  still  of  honours,  remembering 


THE   SCHOOL   OF    HUMANISM   AND   TASTE     23 

they  are  the  successors  of  the  masters  of  the  world,  the  old 
Romans,  and  to  put  the  world  still  in  mind  of  it,  they  take  to 
themselves  the  glorious  names  of  Camillo,  Scipione,  Julio, 
Mario,  Pompeo,  etc.  They  are  as  sensible  also  of  their 
honour,  as  desirous  of  honours,  and  this  makes  them  strickt  to 
their  wives  even  to  jealousy,  knowing  that  for  one  Cornelius 
Tacitus,  there  have  been  ten  Pubhi  Cornelii ;  and  that  Lucius 
Cornicius  is  the  most  affronting  man.  They  are  hard  to  be 
pleased  when  they  have  once  been  red-hot  with  offence ;  but 
they  will  not  meet  revenge  in  the  face  and  field,  and  they  will 
rather  hire  it  than  take  it.  .  .  . 

"As  for  their  manners,  they  are  most  commendable.  They 
have  taught  them  in  their  bookes,  they  practise  them  in  their 
actions,  and  they  have  spread  them  abroad  over  all  Europe, 
which  owes  its  civility  unto  the  Italians,  as  well  as  its  religion. 
They  never  affront  strangers  in  what  habit  soever  they  appeare, 
and  if  the  strangeness  of  the  habit  drew  the  Italian's  eye  to  it, 
yet  he  will  never  draw  in  his  mouth  to  laugh  at  it.  As  for 
their  apparel  or  dresse,  it's  commonly  black  and  modest.  .  .  . 
They  are  precise  in  point  of  ceremony  and  reception,  and  are 
not  puzzled  at  all  when  they  heare  a  great  man  is  comeing  to 
visit  them.  There's  not  a  man  of  them  but  he  knows  how  to 
entertain  men  of  all  conditions,  that  is,  how  farre  to  meet,  how 
to  place  them,  how  to  style  and  treat  them,  how  to  reconduct 
them  and  how  farre.  They  are  good  for  nunciatures,  em- 
bassies, and  state  employments,  being  men  of  good  behaviour, 
lookes,  temper  and  discretion,  and  never  outrunning  their 
business." 

Milton  went  to  Italy  after  his  Comus  had  been  acted,  and 
an  interesting  letter  from  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  then  Provost  of 
Eton,  is  printed  in  the  second  edition  of  the  Masque.  After 
thanking  the  young  poet  for  the  "  dainty  piece  of  entertain- 
ment," Wotton  goes  on  to  talk  of  Milton's  projected  journey  : 
"  I  should  think  that  your  best  line  will  be  through  the  whole 
length  of  France  to  Marseilles,  and  thence  by  sea  to  Genoa, 
whence  the  passage  into  Tuscany  is  as  diurnal  as  a  Gravesend 
barge.  I  hasten,  as  you  do,  to  Florence  or  Siena,  the  rather 
to  tell  you  a  short  story  from  the  interest  you  have  given  me 
in  your  safety.  At  Siena  I  was  tabled  in  the  house  of  one 
Alberto  Scipioni,  an  old  Roman  courtier  in  dangerous  times, 
having  been  steward  to  the  Duca  di  Pagliano,  who  with  all  his 
family  were  strangled,  save  this  only  man  that  escaped  by 
foresight  of  the  tempest.     With  him  I  had  often  much  chat  of 


24  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

those  affairs,  into  which  he  took  pleasure  to  look  back  from 
his  native  harbour;  and  at  my  departure  toward  Rome  (which 
had  been  the  centre  of  his  experience)  I  had  won  his  con- 
fidence enough  to  beg  his  advice  how  I  might  carry  iiiyself 
there  without  offence  of  others  or  of  mine  own  conscience. 
'  Signor  Arrigo  mio,'  says  he,  '  /  pensieri  stretti  ed  il  viso 
sciolto  ^  will  go  safely  over  the  whole  world,'  of  which  Delphian 
oracle  (for  so  I  have  found  it)  your  judgment  doth  need  no 
commentary." 

Milton's  journey  to  Italy  is  best  epitomised  by  _  Mark 
Pattison  in  his  short  life  of  the  poet.  He  set  out  with  his 
letters  of  introduction  from  Sir  Henry  Wotton  and  arrived  at 
Florence  in  the  autumn  of  1638.  The  young  foreigner  (he 
was  then  thirty)  was  well  received  by  the  learned  Academies, 
which  upheld  the  literary  traditions  of  an  Italy  in  decadence. 
In  one  minute-book  in  which  his  attendance  is  recorded, 
Milton  is  described  as  viulto  erudito.  No  particular  record  of 
his  stay  at  Florence  or  at  Rome  exists  except  a  few  scattered 
references  in  his  prose  works,  the  famous  comparison  suggested 
by  Vallombrosa,  and  the  sympathetic  reference  to  Galileo, 
whom  he  met  in  1639.  Some  of  Milton's  Italian  poems  show 
his  facility  in  the  language,  which  he  had  begun  to  study  in  his 
twenty-fourth  year.  It  is  perhaps  late  in  the  day  to  quote 
Milton,  but  the  lines  in  Paradise  Regained  describing  ancient 
Rome  give  a  grand  conception  of  its  former  glories  : 

"  The  city  which  thou  seest  no  other  deem 
Than  great  and  glorious  Rome,  Queen  of  the  Earth 
So  far  renowned,  and  with  the  spoils  enriched 
Of  nations.     There  the  Capitol  thou  seest, 
Above  the  rest  lifting  his  stately  head 
On  the  Tarpeian  rock,  her  citadel 
Impregnable  ;  and  there  Mount  Talatine, 
The  imperial  palace,  compass  huge,  and  high 
The  structure,  skill  of  noblest  architects. 
With  gilded  battlements,  conspicuous  far, 
Turrets,  and  terraces  and  glittering  spires. 
Many  a  fair  edifice  besides,  more  like 
Houses  of  gods — so  well  I  have  disposed 
My  aery  microscope — thou  may'st  l)ehold, 
Outside  and  inside  both,  pillars  and  roofs 
Carved  work,  the  hand  of  famed  artificers 
In  cedar,  marble,  ivory,  or  gold. 


1  "  Honest  thoughts  and  guarded  looks."      The  "  Sir  Harry  mine  "  is 
much  like  the  modern  '^ caro  mio  signo7-e." 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM   AND   TASTE     25 

Thence  to  the  gates  cast  round  thine  eye,  and  see 
What  conflux  issuing  forth,  or  entering  in  : 
Praetors,  proconsuls  to  their  provinces 
Hasting,  or  on  return,  in  robes  of  state; 
Lictors  and  rods,  the  ensigns  of  their  power." 

John  Evelyn  is  a  perfect  traveller,  and  very  much  of  what 
he  has  written  finds  its  place  here.  He  lived  from  the  reign 
of  Charles  I.  to  that  of  William  and  Mary,  and  his  diary 
extends  from  1641  to  1705.  He  came  of  a  good  family,  and 
his  father's  estate  in  Surrey,  as  he  tells  us,  "was  esteemed 
about  ;^4ooo  per  afm.,  well  wooded  and  full  of  timber." 
The  house  is  tenanted  to-day  by  a  collateral  descendant,  and 
among  other  relics  possesses  the  MSS.  of  the  diary.  Evelyn 
was  a  fine  example  of  the  activity  and  culture  of  his  time, 
alternating  public  services  with  efforts  on  behalf  of  the  fine 
arts.  Horace  Walpole  wrote  :  "  He  was  one  of  the  first  pro- 
moters of  the  Royal  Society ;  a  patron  of  the  ingenious  and 
the  indigent,  and  peculiarly  serviceable  to  the  lettered  world ; 
for  besides  his  writings  and  discoveries  he  obtained  the 
Arundelian  Marbles  for  the  University  of  Oxford  and  the 
Arundelian  Library  for  the  Royal  Society."  He  went  to  Italy 
in  1644,  that  is,  just  over  100  years  after  Michael  Angelo's 
death. 

Evelyn's  taste  for  magnificence  will  be  sufiiciently  noted  in 
our  extracts,  but  we  may  illustrate  his  love  of  connoisseurship 
by  the  following  :  "  We  were  againe  invited  to  Signor  Angeloni's 
study,  where  with  greater  leysure  we  survey'd  the  rarities  as  his 
cabinet  and  medaills  especially,  esteem'd  one  of  the  best 
collections  in  Europe.  He  also  showed  us  two  antiq  lamps, 
one  of  them  dedicated  to  Falas,  the  other  Laribus  Sacru\  as 
appeared  by  their  inscriptions ;  some  old  Roman  rings  and 
keyes ;  the  Aegyptian  Isis  cast  in  yron ;  sundry  rare  bas- 
relievos,  good  pieces  of  paynting,  principally  the  Christ  of 
Corregio,  with  this  painter's  owne  face  admirably  don  by  him- 
selfe  :  divers  of  both  the  Bassanos  ;  a  greate  number  of  pieces 
by  Titian,  particularly  the  Trimnphs ;  an  infinity  of  naturall 
rarities,  dry'd  animals,  Indian  habits  and  weapons,  shells,  etc., 
divers  very  antiq  statues  of  brasse  ;  some  lamps  of  so  fine  an 
earth  that  they  resembled  cornelians  for  transparency  and 
colour  ;  hinges  of  Corinthian  brasse,  and  one  great  nayle  of 
the  same  mettal  found  in  the  ruins  of  Nero's  golden  house." 
The  variety  of  the  objets  d'art  here  enumerated  shows  a  culture 
that  is  far  more  advanced  than  that  of  travellers  like  Coryatt  or 


26  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Sandys.  These  writers  held  to  the  classical  note  of  the 
sixteenth  century,  but  in  Evelyn  the  admirer  of  things  both 
ancient  and  modern  is  to  be  seen.  He  describes  the  splendid 
palaces  he  sees  in  language  of  a  similar  fanciful  grace,  but  he 
is  more  than  a  dilettante,  for  he  sees  Italy  in  due  proportion  of 
the  past  and  present.  Evelyn's  balanced  study  of  the  country 
is  remarkable,  for  it  had  no  forerunner,  and  is  the  first  fairly 
complete  picture  of  Italy  we  possess,  with  the  omission,  of 
course,  of  certain  modern  notes  of  admiration  for  art.  Thus 
much  may  be  said  to  support  the  choice  of  Evelyn  as  our 
representative  traveller  of  the  seventeenth  century.  We  place 
Evelyn  in  this  section  of  travel,  because  he  links  on  by  style 
and  habit  of  thought  to  the  later  Renaissance.  The  advance 
in  his  culture  may  be  attributed  to  his  greater  acquaintance 
with  the  Italian  cognoscenti,  but  his  references  to  painting  are 
extremely  bald,  and  he  is  sometimes  content  to  refer  to  "divers 
good  pictures,"  merely  adding  the  names.  In  one  way  Evelyn 
is  right :  the  artistic  value  of  a  picture  in  his  day  was  only  con- 
sidered in  relation  to  the  building  of  which  it  formed  a  detail. 
Exaggerated  admiration  for  easel  pictures  was  to  come  later, 
and  to  make  painting  too  often  an  art  of  conscious  trickery 
and  affectation. 

A  book  whose  subject  is  somewhat  out  of  the  category  of 
travel,  but  of  interest  nevertheless,  is  the  Voyage  et  observatiojis 
of  the  Sieur  Audeber,  conseiller  du  Roy  au  Parlement  de 
Bretagne  (1656).  This  medley  of  no  little  shrewdness  refers  to 
character,  customs, and  such  divers  subjects  as  meals,  demoniacs, 
weights  and  measures,  wines,  coral,  and  scorpions.  Audeber 
begins  by  repeating  the  familiar  idea  that  the  Italian  is  always 
an  extremist,  "  de  sorte  qu'il  est  du  tout  honime  de  bien,  ou 
du  tout  mechant "  ;  he  remarks  on  his  eloquence,  his  discretion 
and  fidelity,  but  considers  that  his  vice  is  that  of  being  vindic- 
tive, and  of  concealing  his  hatred  till  he  can  satisfy  vengeance. 
A  curious  detail  is  that,  in  reference  to  arms  worn  on  the 
person,  a  defensive  weapon  (generally  the  sword)  is  every- 
where permitted  ;  that  a  dagger  can  only  be  worn  outside  the 
towns ;  that  any  one  wishing  to  go  into  the  country  with 
halbard  or  javelin  must  place  a  piece  of  wood  on  the  point ; 
and  that  any  one  with  a  [his ton  a  feu — videlicet,  a  gun — must 
leave  it  uncharged  while  within  the  city  gates.  The  dagger 
was  permitted  at  Ferrara,  at  Milan  the  rapier  had  to  be  a 
certain  length ;  in  Genoa  and  in  San  Marco  at  Venice  no 
sword  could  be  worn.     Audeber  further  tells  us  of  the  various 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     27 

methods  by  which  Guelfs  and  Ghibellines  are  to  be  distin- 
guished. Knife  and  fork  and  spoon  are  placed  on  the  right 
side  of  the  platter  in  Guelf  houses,  in  Ghibelline  houses  neither 
right  nor  left,  mais  en  travers,  phis  avent  en  la  table  ;  they  cut 
their  bread  differently  too,  the  former  at  the  side,  the  latter 
above  or  below.  We  also  read  of  bets  being  made  about 
future  Popes. 

//  Mercurio  Italico  is  a  small  volume  containing  the 
Itinerary  of  John  Raymond  in  1646-47,  which  gives  the 
towns  the  following  epithets  :  Rome  the  Holy,  Venice  the 
Rich,  Naples  the  Gentle,  Florence  the  Faire,  Genua  the 
vSuperbe,  Milan  the  Great,  Bolonia  the  Fat,  Padua  the  Learned, 
Verona  the  Ancient.  The  Italians  have  always  retained  certain 
names  for  the  principal  towns,  and  we  may  add  the  Latin  title 
of  Augusta  Perusia^  still  preserved.  Verona,  it  may  be 
remarked,  is  always  called  La  Degtia,  and  not  the  "  Ancient." 

§  3.  Objects  of  Travel 

We  may  now  seek  to  indicate  the  main  directions  of 
research  among  sixteenth-  and  seventeenth-century  travellers. 
They  carried  on  the  humanistic  tradition  of  the  early  Re- 
naissance, a  humanism  based  on  the  study  of  the  classics  and 
directed  to  making  a  courtier.  The  poets  and  dramatists  had 
used  Italian  books  as  a  mine  of  romantic  material,  but  the 
travellers  go  abroad,  as  James  Howell  tells  us,  "  to  mingle  with 
those  more  refined  nations,  whom  learning  and  knowledge 
did  first  urbanize  and  polish."  The  northerner,  in  fact,  from 
1550  to  1680  was  not  an  invader  going  in  search  of  plunder, 
but  a  partially  instructed  man  going  to  the  best  school  of 
knowledge,  letters,  and  manners.  He  sought  culture,  not  specially 
of  an  aesthetic  kind,  but  to  become  a  more  complete  man  by 
the  influence  of  the  country  which  Howell  declares  "hath 
beene  alwayes  accounted  the  Nurse  of  Policy,  Learning, 
Musique,  Architecture,  and  Limning,  with  other  perfections 
which  she  disperseth  to  the  rest  of  Europe." 

Notwithstanding  the  reference  to  "limning"  our  early 
travellers  know  very  little  of  painting.  Lassels  refers  to 
Raphael's  Loggie,  and  also  speaks  of  Cimabue  as  being  men- 
tioned by  Vasari,  but  he  most  probably  drew  his  information 
from  an  antiquary.  He  says  too,  "  Virtuosi  make  a  great 
dispute  which  of  these  three  painters  was  the  most  excellent : 
Raphael  Urbin,  Michael  Angelo,  or  Andrea  del  Sarto?     But 


28  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  wisest  give  every  one  his  particular  praise  or  excellency. 
Raphael  was  excellent  in  colori^  Michael  Angelo  in  designe, 
and  Andrea  in  making  things  seeme  to  be  of  rilievo."  The 
use  of  the  Italian  words  is  of  importance  as  probably  indicating 
that  English  terms  of  art  did  not  exist,  at  least  in  this  precise 
significance. 

No  clearer  summary  of  one  side  of  early  seventeenth- 
century  travel  can  be  found  than  that  given  in  Lassels'  preface 
to  his  book.^  Himself  a  bear-leader  of  young  noblemen,  he 
considers  mature  men,  and  comments  on  his  own  texts 
for  the  young :  "  Travelling  preserves  my  young  nobleman 
from  surfeiting  of  his  parents,  and  weanes  him  from  the 
dangerous  fondness  of  his  mother.  It  teacheth  him  whole- 
some hardship,  to  lye  in  beds  that  are  none  of  his  acquaintance ; 
to  speak  to  men  he  never  saw  before,  to  travel  in  the  morning 
before  day  and  in  the  evening  after  day,  to  endure  any  horse 
and  weather,  as  well  as  any  meat  and  drink,  whereas  my 
country  gentleman  that  never  travelled  can  scarce  go  _  to 
London  without  making  his  will,  or  at  least  without  wetting 
his  handkercher.  .  .  . 

"  Travelling  takes  off,  in  some  sort,  the  aboriginal  curse, 
which  was  laid  upon  mankind  almost  at  the  beginning  of  the 
world  :  I  meane  the  confusion  of  tongues.  ... 

"Travelling  enables  a  man  much  for  his  country e's  service. 
It  makes  the  merchant  rich,  by  showing  him  what  abounds 
and  wants  in  other  countryes,  that  so  he  may  know  what  to 
import,  what  to  export.  ...  It  makes  a  nobleman  fitt  for  the 
noblest  employment,  that  is,  to  bee  ambassador  abroad  for  his 
King  in  forrain  countryes,  and  carry  about  with  him  his  King's 
person,  which  he  represents,  and  his  King's  word,  which  he 
engageth.  .  .  . 

"  Travelling  brings  a  man  a  world  of  particular  profits.  It 
contents  the  minde  with  the  rare  discourses  we  heare  from 
learned  men.  It  makes  a  man  think  himself  at  home  every- 
where, and  smile  at  unjust  exile.  It  makes  him  wellcome 
home  againe  to  his  neighbours,  sought  after  by  his  betters,  and 
listened  unto  with  admiration  by  his  inferiors.  It  makes  him 
sit  still  in  his  old  age  with  satisfaction,  and  travel  over  the 
world  againe  in  his  chair  and  bed  by  discourse  and  thoughts. 
In  fine,  it's  an  excellent  Commentary  upon  historyes,  and  no 
man  understands  Livy  and  Csesar,  Guicciardin  and  Monluc, 

'  Coryatl's  reasons  for  travelling  are  almost  all  drawn  from  classic 
examples. 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND    TASTE     29 

like  him  who  hath  made  exactly  the  Grand  Tour  of  France 
and  the  Giro  of  Italy.  ..." 

The  Italy  to  which  our  travellers  went  was  one  which  still 
preserved  the  pride  of  its  old  pageants.  Lassels,  speaking  of 
the  entry  of  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Savoy  into  Chambe'ry, 
then  the  chief  town  of  the  dukedom,  declares  that  "  to  describe 
all  the  triumphal  arches  in  the  streets,  with  their  emblems  and 
mottoes  rarely  painted ;  the  stately  throne  a  little  out  of  the 
town,  where  the  Duke  and  Duchess  received  the  compliments 
of  their  subjects ;  the  rich  liveries  of  the  young  townsmen  on 
horseback,  the  gallantry  of  the  noblemen  and  gentlemen  of 
the  country  (800  in  all),  with  their  horses  as  fine  as  they ;  the 
Farlamefit  men,  and  other  officers  of  Justice  all  in  black 
velvet  gowns,  the  clergy  and  religious  marching  in  the  mean- 
time humbly  a  foot  and  in  procession  ;  the  Duke's  two  com- 
panies of  horse  in  velvet  coats  of  crimson  colour,  embroidered 
with  gold  and  silver ;  the  pages  and  footmen  of  the  Duke  and 
Duchess  in  crimson  velvet  laid  thick  with  gold  and  silver 
lace ;  in  fine,  the  Duke  and  Duchess  on  horseback  as  brilliant 
as  the  sun,  would  fill  a  book  alone." 

When  the  traveller  came  over  the  mountains  into  Italy,  he 
was  carried  on  a  chair  or  rode  a  mule  ;  in  winter  he  might  be 
"posted  down  the  hill  upon  the  snow  in  sledges."  Arriving 
in  the  towns,  he  bargained  for  his  lodging  and  refreshment ; 
and  could  often  obtain  money  on  the  bills  of  exchange  he 
had  brought  with  him.  As  long  as  he  was  discreet  in  speech 
he  could  go  to  see  any  religious  ceremony  :  Evelyn  was  actually 
invited  by  a  friendly  Dominican  to  be  godfather  to  a  converted 
Turk  and  a  Jew.  He  visited  the  schools  of  anatomy,  saw  the 
dissection  of  dead  bodies,  and  was  sometimes  able  to  view  the 
ceremony  of  Circumcision  in  the  Ghetto.  If  he  was  learned, 
or  even  companionable,  he  was  admitted  to  the  sessions  of  the 
Academies.     Evelyn  gives  us  one  instance  of  this  : 

"  I  was  invited  after  dinner  to  the  Academie  of  the  Humor- 
ists kept  in  a  spacious  hall  belonging  to  Signor  Mancini, 
where  the  Witts  of  the  towne  meete  on  certaine  dales  to  recite 
poems,  and  debate  on  several  subjects.  The  first  that  speakes 
is  cal'd  the  Lord,  and  stands  in  an  eminent  place,  and  then 
the  rest  of  the  Virtuosi  recite  in  order.  By  these  ingenious 
exercises,  besides  the  learn'd  discourses,  is  the  purity  of  the 
Italian  tongue  daily  improv'd.  The  roome  is  hung  round  with 
devises  or  emblemes,  with  mottos  under  them.  There  are 
severall  other  Academies  of  this  nature,  bearing  like  fantastical 


30  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

titles.  In  this  of  the  Humorists  is  the  picture  of  Guarini,  the 
famous  author  of  the  Pastor  Fido,  once  of  this  society.  The 
cheife  part  of  the  day  we  spent  in  hearing  the  academic 
exercises." 

Private  collections  of  art  were  willingly  thrown  open  to 
foreigners,  cathedrals  and  churches  were  always  public,  while 
even  the  palaces  of  the  Doges  or  Dukes  could  be  visited  with- 
out much  apparent  formality.  A  letter  introducing  Tom  Coryatt 
to  Sir  Henry  Wotton  shows  that  it  was  necessary  to  have 
credentials  when  not  of  noble  birth  ;  a  nobleman,  apparently, 
was  still  introduced  by  his  tide.  Some  evidence  of  the  state 
of  mind  in  which  the  travelled  Englishman  returned  is  sup- 
plied by  Shakespeare.  He  himself  is  not  very  favourable  to 
foreign  travel,  if  Rosalind  expresses  his  opinion  when  she 
says  :  "  A  traveller  !  By  my  faith,  you  have  reason  to  be  sad. 
I  fear  you  have  sold  your  own  lands  to  see  other  men's."  We 
presently  come  to  the  quip  :  "  Farewell,  Monsieur  Traveller  : 
look  your  lisp  and  wear  strange  suits,  disable  all  the  benefits 
of  your  own  country,  be  out  of  love  with  your  nativity,  and 
almost  chide  God  for  making  you  that  countenance  you  are, 
or  I  will  scarce  think  you  have  swam  in  a  gondola."  It  is  to 
be  observed,  however,  that  England  was  almost  mediaeval  in 
spirit  till  the  beginning  of  the  reign  of  James  I.  The  EngUsh 
mind,  as  soon  as  it  had  been  put  in  touch  with  the  record  of 
the  past,  made  as  astonishing  progress  as  Norway  has  made 
within  our  own  time.  From  being  provincial  London  became  a 
seat  of  learning  ;  we  may  note  how  thoroughly  Italian  Francis 
Bacon  is  in  his  diction ;  splendid  palaces  began  to  arise 
throughout  the  country,  pictures  and  medals  were  brought 
from  Italy  :  the  record  of  the  art  collection  of  Charles  I.  serves 
as  a  model  of  the  taste  of  1640  ;  and  a  general  spirit  of  culture 
was  diffused,  which  showed  itself  both  in  the  Puritans,  John 
Milton  and  Andrew  Marvell,  as  well  as  the  Royalists,  George 
Herbert  and  Robert  Herrick.  The  growing  austerities  of  the 
Commonwealth,  the  lewd  French  follies  of  the  Restoration, 
the  comfortable  prosperity  of  the  Georgian  era,  crushed  this 
fine  spirit  of  the  reconciliation  of  seemliness  and  beauty  with 
truth  and  reverence.  It  was  only  in  the  Victorian  age,  with  its 
new  expansion,  that  England  was  to  win  back  a  true  spiritual 
freedom,  with  its  accomi)anying  love  of  the  arts  which  add  a 
dignity  to  life  and  its  nobler  pleasures. 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     31 


§  4.  Travellers  from  Burnet  to  Winckleman 

A  certain  hiatus  in  the  record  of  travel  is  observable  from 
the  time  of  Evelyn  to  that  of  Addison.  This  may  be  attri- 
buted to  the  Civil  War,  and  the  prevalence  of  Spanish  influences 
in  England  during  the  time  of  Charles  II.  and  James  II. 
Dryden  and  his  compeers  followed  Spanish  models  in  the 
drama,  and  a  large  number  of  Spanish  books  were  translated 
into  English.  Intercourse  with  France,  too,  altered  the  mental 
attitude.  When  we  come  to  the  later  years  of  the  seventeenth 
century,  we  find  plain  and  precise  accounts  of  Italy  without 
any  of  the  beauty  of  the  earlier  travels.  Gileekt  Burnet, 
the  author  of  the  History  of  his  Oivn  Times,  and  famous  as 
one  of  the  supporters  of  William  of  Orange,  by  whom  he  was 
afterwards  made  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  travelled  in  Italy  about 
the  year  1686.  He  embodied  his  ideas  in  three  long  letters 
from  Milan,  Florence,  and  Rome.  He  was  at  that  time  in 
disfavour  with  James  II.,  but  he  was  well  received  by  Pope 
Innocent  XL,  until— it  is  to  be  supposed — the  Papal  Court 
heard  of  the  part  Burnet  had  played  against  Catholicism  in 
England.  Burnet's  letters  are  chatty  accounts  of  many  dif- 
ferent impressions,  written  currente  cainuio,  and  interspersed 
with  historical  remarks  showing  unusual  research  for  his 
period.  Another  letter  of  his  was  printed,  describing  Molinos 
and  the  Molinist  heresy.  Limojon  de  St.  Didier,  who  has 
left  us  an  entertaining  monograph  on  Venice  (1680),  was  a 
Frenchman  of  Avignon,  who  was  well  versed  in  political  affairs, 
and  at  one  time  went  on  a  mission  for  Louis  XIV.  to  the 
deposed  James  II.,  then  in  Ireland.  A  book  of  travels  that 
had  some  repute  was  the  Neiv  Voyage  to  Italy,  translated  in 
1695  from  the  French  of  Maximilien  Misson.  The  writer 
was  a  Protestant  refugee  from  France,  and  went  to  Italy  in  1688 
as  bear-leader  of  the  young  Charles  Butler,  afterwards  Earl  of 
Arran.  Addison  considered  his  account  as  being  generally 
"more  correct  than  that  of  any  writer  before  him."  Misson's 
narration  is  undistinguished  in  style,  and  such  few  extracts  as 
might  possibly  have  been  suitable  would  only  have  had  an 
antiquarian  interest.  In  his  "  Instructions  to  a  Traveller"  he 
gives  us  some  glimpses  into  the  material  side  of  life  abroad  in 
his  day.  He  says  :  "  There  are  some  good  Inns  at  Venice, 
such  as  the  Louvre,  the  White  Lyon,  and  the  French  Arms ; 
but  when  one  intends  to  spend  some  months  in  that  city,  the 


32  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVFX 

best  way  is  to  hire  a  furnished  house.  ...  At  the  Louvre 
you  are  entertain'd  for  eight  Hvres  a  day,  and  the  White  Lyon 
and  Frefuh  Arms  are  somewhat  cheaper,  but  you  must  always 
remember  to  make  your  bargain  for  everything  before  you  go 
into  the  house,  to  avoid  after-debates."  He  adds  that  an 
ordinary  gondola  costs  fifteenpence  an  hour,  or  a  superior 
one  seven  or  eight  livres  a  day.  Misson  recommends  those 
staying  in  Rome  to  "  agree  with  a  skilful  Antiquary  and  fix 
certain  times  to  visit  with  him  the  principal  rarities."  He 
remarks  that  he  gave  his  antiquary  three  pistoles  a  month, 
stating  that  "  he  is  well  acquainted  with  medals  and  trades 
in  'em." 

The  letters  from  Italy  of  James  Drummond,  fourth  Earl 
OF  Perth,  were  first  published  in  1845  from  the  original  MS. 
by  the  Camden  Society.  Mr.  William  Jerdan,  the  editor,  tells 
us  that  James  Drummond  was  born  in  1648,  and  studied 
philosophy  at  the  University  of  St.  Andrews.  After  succeed- 
ing to  his  father's  title,  he  became  Chancellor  of  Scotland  in 
1684,  and  in  James  II. 's  reign  declared  himself  a  Roman 
Catholic.  .After  James'  flight  to  the  Continent,  the  Earl  of 
Perth  travelled  in  Italy,  and  finally  ended  his  career  at 
St.  Germain's  in  attendance  on  the  deposed  sovereign.  The 
first  letter  bears  date  Venice,  i8th  February  1695.  We  may 
extract  from  one  of  the  early  letters,  this  pretty  vignette  :  "  This 
morning  the  Princess  Pallavicini  carryed  us  to  mass,  and  after 
that  to  a  vineyard  where  the  Princess  Savelli  was  making  her 
vintage.  We  had  an  handsome  dinner,  although  we  surprised 
the  Princess ;  and  the  young  lasses  who  were  there,  per  mozzi- 
care,  that  is,  to  gather  the  grapes,  played  on  the  tamboidr  de 
sasque  and  sung  songs  how  when  they  went  out  the  dew  wet 
their  pettycoats,  how  they  sung  and  talkt  with  their  sweet- 
hearts while  they  cut  the  stalks  of  the  rasins,  and  how  their 
mistress  had  provided  a  good  breakfast,  etc.,  and  every  verse 
ended  with  a  Viva  il  Compare  et  viva  la  Comare,  that  is,  may 
our  good-man  and  good-wife  prosper."  Drummond  also  gives 
us  a  glimpse  of  the  Spanish  dominion  which  lasted  in  Naples 
till  17 13,  in  the  following: — "The  feast  of  Saint  Antonio,  the 
abbot  (St.  Paul,  the  first  hermite  contemporarie),  began  the 
carnavall  here  with  a  Spafifagio  or  Corso,  where  all  the  great 
folks  in  the  town  went  in  the  street  that  leads  to  St.  Antoine's 
Church  to  walk  in  their  coaches ;  all  the  chief  magistrates 
went ;  their  officers,  alguazils,  and  sbirri,  were  on  horse-back, 
in  Spanish  cloaths  ;  the  Viceroy,  with  all  his  court  and  guard. 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     33 

on  horse-back  and  a'  foot,  with  the  Swizzers  in  their  Hveries, 
and  all  the  Spanish  troops  in  the  publick  places  where  his 
Excellency  was  to  go  through." 

Addison  was  under  thirty  years  of  age  when  he  reached 
Italy  for  his  two  years'  trip.  The  earliest  edition  of  his  book 
appears  to  be  Remarks  ofi  several  Farts  of  Italy,  etc.  (1705); 
the  title-page  has  a  motto  from  Cicero,  and  the  publisher  is 
Jacob  Tonson.  Addison's  object  in  travel  is  mainly  to  follow 
the  footsteps  of  the  ancient  poets.  In  a  versified  letter  to 
Lord  Hahfax,  written  in  1701,  he  says  : 

"  Poetic  fields  encompass  me  around, 
And  still  I  seem  to  tread  a  classic  ground, 
For  here  the  Muse  so  oft  her  harp  has  strung, 
That  not  a  mountain  rears  its  head  unsung  ; 
Renowned  in  verse  each  shady  thicket  grows, 
And  every  stream  in  heavenly  numbers  flows." 

Dr.  Johnson's  opinion  of  the  book  was  expressed  with  his 
usual  terseness  :  "  As  his  stay  in  foreign  countries  was  short, 
his  observations  are  such  as  might  be  supplied  by  a  hasty  view, 
and  consist  chiefly  in  comparisons  of  the  present  face  of  the 
country  with  the  descriptions  left  us  by  the  Roman  poets.  .  .  . 
The  most  amusing  passage  of  his  book  is  his  account  of  the 
minute  republic  of  San  Marino ;  of  many  parts,  it  is  not  a 
very  severe  censure  to  say  that  they  might  have  been  written 
at  home.  His  elegance  of  language  and  variegation  of  prose 
and  verse,  however,  gains  upon  the  reader."  We  have  not 
been  able  to  select  much  from  Addison,  but  we  have  followed 
Dr.  Johnson  in  choosing  the  description  of  San  Marino.  A 
description  of  the  Italian  character  has  the  keen  perception 
that  would  be  expected  of  the  writer  of  the  Spectators  : 

"  The  Italians  are  for  recommending  themselves  to  those 
they  converse  with  by  their  gravity  and  wisdom.  In  Spain 
.  .  .  where  there  are  fewer  liberties  of  this  nature  allowed, 
there  is  something  still  more  serious  and  composed  in  the 
manner  of  the  inhabitants.  But  as  mirth  is  more  apt  to  make 
proselytes  than  melancholy,  it  is  observed  that  the  Italians 
have  many  of  them  for  these  late  years  given  very  far  into  the 
modes  and  freedoms  of  the  French  ;  which  prevail  more  or  less 
in  the  courts  of  Italy,  as  they  lie  at  a  smaller  or  greater  dis- 
tance from  France.  It  may  be  here  worth  while  to  consider 
how  it  comes  to  pass,  that  the  common  people  of  Italy  have 
in  general  so  very  great  an  aversion  to  the   French,  which 

c 


34 


THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


every  traveller  cannot  but  be  sensible  of,  that  has  passed 
through  the  country.  The  most  obvious  reason  is  certainly 
the  great  difference  that  there  is  in  the  humours  and  manners 
of  the  two  nations,  which  always  works  more  in  the  meaner  sort, 
who  are  not  able  to  vanquish  the  prejudices  of  education,  than 
with  the  nobility.  Besides  that,  the  French  humour,  in  regard 
of  the  liberties  they  take  in  female  conversations,  and  their 
great  ambition  to  excel  in  all  companies,  is  in  a  more  particular 
manner  very  shocking  to  the  Italians,  who  are  naturally  jealous 
and  value  themselves  upon  their  great  wisdom." 

Dean  (afterwards  Bishop)  Berkeley  was  in  Italy  in  17 14. 
He  had  Pope  among  his  correspondents,  and  the  point  of  view 
of  the  age  is  to  be  noted  in  the  following  :  "  Green  fields  and 
groves,  flowery  meadows  and  purling  streams  are  nowhere  in 
such  perfection  as  in  England  ;  but  if  you  would  know  light- 
some days,  warm  suns,  and  blue  skies,  you  must  come  to 
Italy ;  and  to  enable  a  man  to  describe  rocks  and  precipices, 
it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  he  pass  the  Alps."  This  famous 
philosopher's  Italian /our?ial  wdi?,  first  published  in  187 1,  and 
this  must  not  be  confused  with  his  letters  to  Pope  ;  the  journal 
is  more  a  series  of  jottings  than  a  connected  account.  The 
Voyage  en  Jtalie  of  Montesquiou,  the  author  of  the  Esprit 
des  Lois,  was  published  posthumously.  Montesquiou  went 
to  Venice  in  1728,  where  he  met  Lord  Chesterfield,  and  they 
discussed  the  respective  merits  of  Englishmen  and  French- 
men. It  came  down  to  an  argument  whether  sangfroid  or 
esprit  were  the  superior  gift.  Montesquiou  enjoyed  the  hos- 
pitality of  the  Milanese  aristocracy  during  three  weeks'  stay 
in  Lombardy,  and  in  Turin  was  received  by  King  Victor- 
Amadeus  II.  Turin  bored  the  brilliant  Frenchman,  but  he 
was  delighted  by  the  affable  simplicity  of  the  Florentines.  He 
described  Naples  and  Rome  by  saying,  "  Naples  can  be  seen 
in  two  minutes,  Rome  requires  six  months."  The  Voyage 
Ilistorigue  o{  Gv\¥.T  de  Merville  (1729)  is  not  much  more 
to  our  purpose  than  that  of  Montesquiou,  but  it  is  worth  an 
examination  by  the  student  of  history  as  giving  some  concep- 
tion of  the  intrigues  of  the  clerical  court  in  Rome  in  the  story 
of  the  trial  of  a  spy  called  the  Abbate  Volpini.  Joseph 
Spence,  whose  Anecdotes  are  a  repertory  of  the  literary  opinions 
delivered  in  conversation  by  Pope  and  other  celebrities,  knew 
Italy  well.  He  made  three  tours  there  between  1730  and 
1739,  and  inserts  several  bits  of  conversation  in  the  Attecdotes, 
which  illustrate  the  small-talk  of  the  time.     Spence's  letters 


THE   SCHOOL  OF   HUMANISM   AND  TASTE     35 

to  his  mother  describe  incidents  in  his  travels.  A  remark  by 
Dr.  Cocchi  in  the  Anecdotes  shows  that  the  study  of  Dante 
(somewhat  interrupted  during  the  Renaissance)  was  obtaining 
a  new  vogue. 

The  letters  written  from  Italy  by  Gray,  the  author  of  the 
immortal  "  Elegy,"  have  often  been  praised,  but  a  study  of 
them  shows  that  the  zeal  of  the  biographers  has  outrun  their 
acumen.  Critics  are  too  often  unable  to  distinguish  between 
personal  interest  and  intrinsic  value.  It  is  only  by  comparing 
the  results  of  travel  that  we  see  what  is  really  an  addition  to 
the  store  of  experience  or  delight.  Gray's  journey  took  place 
in  1 740-1 741  ;  he  went  in  company  with  Horace  Walpole, 
but  their  different  temperaments  caused  an  estrangement 
which  was  only  healed  years  after.  Gray's  letters  are  those 
of  a  confirmed  classicist  and  have  occasional  felicities  of 
expression.  Horace  Walpole  dates  his  earliest  letter  from 
Italy,  November  nth,  1739,  and  begins,  "So,  as  the  song 
says,  we  are  in  fair  Italy."  His  letters  do  not  contain  any 
more  interest  for  our  purpose  than  those  of  his  companion. 
They  are  the  letters  of  a  very  young  man,  and  contain  such 
remarks  as  "  the  incidents  of  a  week  in  London  would  furnish 
all  Italy  with  news  for  a  twelvemonth."  His  comment  on  the 
landscape  after  leaving  Siena  is  "you  can't  imagine  how 
pretty  the  country  is  between  this  and  Plorence ;  millions  of 
little  hills  planted  with  trees  and  tipped  with  villas  or  con- 
vents." His  description  of  life  at  Rome  is  :  "  Roman  con- 
versations are  dreadful  things  !  such  untoward  mawkins  as 
the  princesses  !  and  the  princes  are  worse.  Then  the  whole 
city  is  littered  with  French  and  German  abbes,  who  make  up 
a  dismal  contrast  with  the  inhabitants."  He  visited  the 
excavations  of  Herculaneum,  which  had  been  discovered 
about  a  year  and  a  half  before.  He  states  at  the  end  of  a 
year  that  he  has  made  "  no  discoveries  in  ancient  or  modern 
arts,"  adding,  in  a  fashionable  spirit  of  weariness,  that  he  has 
"  so  absolutely  lost  all  curiosity  that,  except  the  towns  in  the 
straight  road  to  Great  Britain,  I  shall  scarce  see  a  jot  more  of 
foreign  land."  The  Castle  of  Otrajito,  written  after  the  author 
had  become  a  middle-aged  man,  is  the  first  modern  effort  in 
Italian  Romance.  It  is  easy  to  laugh  at  its  affected  senti- 
ment, but  it  is  an  invaluable  aid  to  the  understanding  of  the 
eighteenth-century  idea  of  the  sublime.  When  Horace 
Walpole  wants  to  write  his  finest,  he  paints  a  Domenichino 
picture  in  words.    The  tale  fails  in  any  sense  of  Gothic  feeling, 


36  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

because  mediaeval  life  had  not  been  sufificiently  studied.  The 
necessity  of  historical  inquiry  to  the  comprehension  of  early 
art  could  not  be  shown  more  plainly  than  by  Horace  Walpole's 
pastiche. 

The  famous  Lettres  Familieres  of  Charles  de  Brosses, 
written  in  1739-40,  but  published  far  later,  is  a  difficult  book 
to  deal  with.  De  Brosses'  social  account  of  Italy  is  that  of 
a  clear-sighted  observer,  but  it  is  rather  superficial  and  deals 
with  some  scandalous  matters.  De  Brosses  was  the  first 
President  of  the  Parliament  of  Dijon,  and  his  scientific 
knowledge  was  favourably  commented  on  by  his  friend  Buffon. 
He  visited  Naples  when  the  excavations  of  Herculaneum  had 
recently  been  begun,  and  sent  a  paper  describing  them  to  the 
Academic  des  Inscriptions  et  Belles  Lettres  some  years  later. 
De  Brosses'  account  of  Italy  has  a  peculiarly  modern  note  : 
he  refers  very  little  to  the  classics,  and  the  advance  in  cul- 
tivated appreciation  from  Addison's  journey  some  forty  years 
before  is  very  marked.  The  Lettres  Familieres  have  been 
recently  translated  by  Lord  Ronald  Gower,  as  far  as  was 
possible  for  modern  readers.  For  the  very  brief  extracts  we 
have  made  our  translation  is  a  new  one.  The  description  of 
our  fellow-countrymen  in  Rome  is  too  good  to  be  missed  : 
"  The  English  are  here  in  great  numbers,  and  live  extrava- 
gantly. As  a  nation  they  are  much  liked  by  the  Romans  on 
account  of  the  wealth  they  bring,  though  most  Italians  keep 
their  most  real  affections  for  Germany.  I  observe  that  in 
general  no  nation  is  less  liked  than  our  own  :  this  comes  from 
our  detestable  habit  of  proclaiming  our  preference  for  our 
customs  beyond  those  of  foreigners,  invariably  finding  fault 
with  whatsoever  is  not  done  as  it  is  at  home.  The  money 
spent  by  the  English  in  Rome,  and  the  habit  of  making  the 
grand  tour  as  part  of  their  education,  does  not  do  them  much 
good.  There  are  some  men  of  culture  who  seek  for  knowledge, 
but  they  are  few  in  number.  Most  of  them  have  a  hired 
carriage  stationed  in  the  Piazza  di  Spagna,  which  waits  for 
them  throughout  the  day,  while  they  get  through  it  by  playing 
billiards  or  some  similar  game  with  each  other.  I  have  known 
more  than  one  Englishman  who  left  Rome  without  meeting 
anybody  except  their  fellow-countrymen  and  without  knowing 
where  the  Colisseum  was.  ..." 

De  Brosses  is  noteworthy  for  his  criticisms  of  pictures. 
He  admired  Giorgione,  "  a  painter  all  the  more  admirable 
for  his  colouring,  in  that  he  had  no  forerunner  for  this  part  of 


THE  SCHOOL  OF   HUMANISM  AND  TASTE     37 

the  art,  of  which  he  may  be  called  the  inventor."  Of  the  great 
canvas  illustrating  the  Miracle  of  St.  Mark  we  are  told  that 
"  Tintoret  has  done  no  finer  thing."  De  Brosses  has  evi- 
dently studied  Vasari  at  first  hand,  and  speaks  of  Cimabue, 
Giotto,  the  Spanish  Chapel  in  Sta  Maria  Novella,  of  Ghir- 
landajo  and  Orcagna,  though  he  adds  that  they  have  pictured 
sacred  subjects  "  in  a  comical  and  absurd  manner."  Never- 
theless, if  we  compare  Ue  Brosses'  notes  on  pictures  with 
Samuel  Richardson's  specialised  book  on  Italian  statuary 
(published  in  1722  and  considered  by  Winckleman  the  most 
complete  book  done  up  to  his  time)  we  see  the  relative 
superiority  of  the  Frenchman's  knowledge.  The  clues  given 
by  De  Brosses  were  not  followed  up,  his  appreciations  were 
not  those  of  his  own  time.  De  Brosses  gives  the  best  view 
of  eighteenth-century  society  in  Italy,  but  it  is  not  very  useful 
for  our  general  purpose. 

Lady  Mary  ^VoRTLEY  Montagu's  Letters  from  Italy  are 
not  so  entertaining  as  those  she  wrote  from  Constantinople. 
She  appears  to  have  resided  in  the  country  at  frequent  intervals 
for  almost  twenty  years  from  1739  ;  but  she  is  more  interested 
in  setting  down  her  impressions  on  Tom  Jones  or  Clarissa 
Harlowe  than  in  Italian  life  or  art.  S.  Whatley's  Journey 
to  Tuscany  (1741)  contains  some  of  the  small-talk  of  the 
period  and  remarks  on  the  Inquisition  at  Rome. 

We  need  not  attempt  to  sum  up  the  purpose  of  travel  till 
we  have  come  to  the  confines  of  the  French  Revolution  period; 
a  certain  difference  arises,  however,  with  Sir  Joshua  Rey- 
nolds. He  is  the  first  important  English  painter  who  comes 
as  a  painter,  and  he  will  be  followed  by  Richard  Wilson  and 
not  a  few  others  down  to  the  time  of  Turner,  Wilkie,  Prout, 
Bonington,  and  Eastlake.  Reynolds  journeyed  to  Italy  in 
1750  when  in  his  twenty-sixth  year.  According  to  his  pupil 
and  biographer  James  Northcote,  he  "  was  too  much  occupied 
in  his  studies  to  dedicate  much  time  to  epistolary  correspond- 
ence." The  chief  results  of  his  Italian  travel  exist  in  his  art  and 
in  the  Discourses  he  delivered  to  the  Academy  students  in 
England.  The  notes  on  the  pictures  he  studied  in  Italian 
towns  have  been  edited  by  William  Cotton,  with  two  photo- 
graphs from  rough  pencil  sketches  showing  the  placing  of  the 
figures  in  two  compositions  ;  these  notes  take  up  forty-six 
pages  of  print,  and  are  extremely  fragmentary.  Here,  by  way 
of  example,  is  the  description  of  Tintoretto's  Adatn  a?id  Eve 
in  the  Scuola  della  Carita  at  Venice  :  "  His  back  forms  a  mass 


38  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

of  light,  his  thigh  lost  in  the  ground ;  the  shadows  in  general, 
full.  The  figures  in  the  colour  of  the  ground,  sometimes  a 
little  greyer,  sometimes  warmer.  The  landscape  all  mellow, 
except  a  little  blue  distant  hill  and  sky  ;  black  trees  and  others 
more  yellow.  The  nearer  hills  are  painted  slap-dash  with 
white  and  grey  and  flesh  tints.  The  leaves  of  the  trees  ditto, 
then  scumbled  over  with  a  mellow  colour  of  oil."  This  is 
highly  technical  criticism,  and  such  fragments  may  be  found 
useful  by  painters.  A  remark  made  elsewhere  by  Reynolds 
concerning  his  travels  is  worth  quoting  :  "  The  manner  of  the 
English  travellers  in  general,  and  of  those  who  most  pique 
themselves  on  studying  Vertu  is,  that  instead  of  examining  the 
beauties  of  those  works  of  fame  and  why  they  are  esteemed, 
they  only  inquire  the  subject  of  the  picture  and  the  name  of 
the  painter,  the  history  of  the  statue  and  where  it  was  found, 
and  write  that  down.  Some  Englishmen,  while  I  was  in  the 
Vatican,  came  there  and  spent  above  six  hours  in  writing  down 
whatever  the  antiquary  dictated  to  them  ;  they  scarcely  ever 
looked  at  the  paintings  the  whole  time."  We  shall  refer  later 
to  Sir  Joshua's  art-criticism. 

The  Earl  of  Orrery's  Ze//(?ri- (i 754-1 755)  are  devoted 
principally  to  history,  and  gave  Robert  Browning  the  subject 
of  his  play  King  Victor  and  King  Charles.  The  Earl  distin- 
guished himself  by  handing  Johnson's  Dictionary — then  re- 
cently published— to  the  Accademia  della  Crusca  ;  he  describes 
this  institution  as  having  received  "  the  authority  of  regular 
statutes  "  in  1580,  and  its  name  as  being  taken  from  the  word 
crusca  (bran),  while  its  device  is  a  mill,  typifying  that  in  matters 
linguistic  it  separates  the  flour  from  the  chaff".  It  is  infinitely 
regrettable  that  Oliver  Goldsmith  has  left  us  but  the  vaguest 
hints  as  to  his  Italian  journey  in  1755.  A  poetical  reference 
to  "  the  wandering  Po  "  and  to  the  condition  of  Italy,  a  de- 
scription of  the  floating  bee-houses  of  Piedmont  in  the  Ani- 
mated  Nature.,  and  a  few  statements  as  to  academies  and 
universities  in  Italy  are  all  that  John  Forster  refers  to  in  his 
life  of  the  author  of  "  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield."  Tramping 
from  town  to  town,  flute  in  hand,  sleeping  and  supping  where 
he  could,  Goldsmith  might  have  given  us  a  picture  of  Italian 
manners  which  would  have  ranked  with  his  delicious  novel. 

We  pass  now  to  the  first  German  who  made  his  mark  in 
Italian  study.  It  is  is  difficult  to  understand  precisely  where 
J.  J.  WiNCKELMAN  was  an  innovator  in  art  criticism.  The 
clearest  point  is  that  up  to  his  time  Italian  archaeologists  had 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     39 

mostly  preferred  to  study  medals  and  bric-a-brac  with  a  great 
deal  of  tedious  classic  erudition,  but  still  with  reference  to 
Italian  art.  Winckelman  tried  to  see  the  classic  remains  as 
those  who  created  them  in  the  past  would  have  looked  upon 
them.  From  this  he  formed  a  canon  of  beauty  which  con- 
trolled Europe  for  years.  Winckelman's  Letters  are  dated 
between  1 756-1764,  and  refer  mainly  to  critical  questions. 
We  may  note  that  the  eighteenth  century  marked  the  discovery 
of  many  classical  masterpieces.  The  results  of  the  discoveries 
at  Herculaneum  were  partly  transmitted  to  the  north  by 
Winckelman's  two  letters. 


§  2.  Travellers  from  Gibbon  to  Young 

Any  correct  idea  of  Gibbon's  travels  in  Italy  has  to  be 
pieced  out  of  the  several  different  autobiographical  memoirs 
edited  in  1896  by  Mr.  John  Murray  from  the  present  Earl  of 
Sheffield's  manuscripts.  The  first  Earl  of  Sheffield  has  used 
many  passages  of  the  memoirs,  but  some  important  passages 
were  not  known  till  the  recent  pubUcation.  P'rom  Memoir  B 
it  appears  that  Gibbon  at  one  time  thought  of  writing  a  "  His- 
tory of  the  Republic  of  Florence,  under  the  House  of  Medicis." 
That  classical  history  was  of  more  interest  to  him  is  shown  by 
his  preliminary  studies  of  antiquarian  books  on  Italy,  and  of 
descriptions  of  the  country  by  "  Strabo,  Pliny,  and  Pomponius 
Mela,"  before  setting  out  on  his  journey  (Memoir  B  ad  fin.). 
Again  he  writes  :  "  My  studies  were  chiefly  preparations  for 
my  classic  tour — the  Latin  poets  and  historians,  the  science  of 
manuscripts,  medals  and  inscriptions,  the  rules  of  architecture, 
the  topography  and  antiquities  of  Rome,  the  geography  of 
Italy,  and  the  military  roads  which  pervaded  the  Empire  of 
the  Caesars.  Perhaps  I  might  boast  that  few  travellers  more 
completely  armed  and  instructed  have  ever  followed  the  foot- 
steps of  Hannibal"  (Memoir  C).  He  started  from  Lausanne 
on  April  16,  1764,  and  went  to  Turin,  Milan,  Parma,  Modena, 
Bologna,  and  Florence.  At  this  last  town  he  stayed  from 
June  to  September,  and  then  went  on  by  Lucca,  Leghorn, 
and  Siena  to  Rome.  "  My  temper,"  he  writes  (Memoir  C), 
"  is  not  very  susceptible  of  enthusiasm,  and  the  enthusiasm 
which  I  do  not  feel  I  have  ever  scorned  to  affect.  But  at  the 
distance  of  twenty-five  years  I  can  neither  forget  nor  express  the 
strong  emotions  which  agitated  my  mind  as  I  first  approached 
and  entered  the  eternal  city.     After  a  sleepless  night,  I  trod 


40  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

with  a  lofty  step  the  ruins  of  the  Forum  ;  each  memorable 
spot  where  Romulus  slood^  or  Tully  spoke,  or  Caesar  fell,  was 
at  once  present  to  my  eye  ;  and  several  days  of  intoxication 
were  lost  or  enjoyed  before  I  could  descend  to  a  cool  or 
minute  examination."  At  Naples,  Gibbon  met  Sir  William 
Hamilton,  the  British  Envoy,  and  later  on  went  to  Loretto, 
Bologna,  Padua,  Vicenza,  Milan,  and  Turin.  Gibbon  describes 
his  idea  of  a  good  traveller  as  one  who  is  indefatigable  in 
enterprise  and  research,  and  who  has  "a  correct  and  exquisite 
eye,  which  commands  the  landskip  of  a  country,  discerns  the 
merit  of  a  picture,  and  measures  the  proportions  of  a  build- 
ing." He  finally  repeats  the  famous  passage  in  his  private 
journal,  in  which  he  narrates  that  it  was  on  "  the  fifteenth  of 
October  1764,  in  the  close  of  the  evening,  as  I  sat  musing  in 
the  church  of  the  Zoccolanti  or  Franciscan  Fryars,  while  they 
were  singing  Vespers  in  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  on  the  ruins  of 
the  Capitol,"  that  he  first  determined  on  writing  the  Decline 
a7id  Fall  of  the  Rotnan  Empire.  He  refers,  in  Memoir  E,  to 
the  fact  that  he  "  read  the  Tuscan  writers  on  the  banks  of  the 
Arno,"  and  sums  up  the  four  great  towns  not  unhappily  as 
"  the  beauties  of  Florence,  the  wonders  of  Rome,  the  curiosi- 
ties of  Naples  .  .  .  the  singular  aspect  of  Venice." 

SxMOLLETT  the  novelist  was  in  Italy  between  1763  and 
1765.  His  biographer,  Mr.  David  Hannay,  remarks  that  his 
travels  are  dreary  reading.  "  His  view  ...  is  naturally 
darkened  by  his  own  sufferings,  and  the  book  in  which  he 
described  his  experiences  is  full  of  melancholy  details  of  the 
state  of  his  health,  and  dreary  stories  of  the  extortion  of  land- 
lords and  the  insolence  of  postilions."  Smollett's  career  was 
drawing  to  a  close,  and  after  a  visit  to  Scotland  in  1766  he 
returned  again  to  Italy,  and  wrote,  or  completed,  Hu7nphry 
Cliiiker,  dying  at  Leghorn  in  1771.  His  grave  is  in  the  old 
English  cemetery  of  that  town.  Smollett  is  something  of  an 
iconoclast,  and  ridicules  any  excessive  admiration  for  art. 
His  friend,  Dr.  John  Armstrong,  writing  under  the  name 
"Lancelot  Temple,"  in  1771  published  A  Short  Ratuble, -vihich 
forms  a  tiny  book  of  102  pages,  with  twelve  lines  to  the  page  : 
this  curious  essay  is  partially  intended  as  a  skit  on  travellers  in 
Italy.  Smollett  compared  the  Pantheon  to  a  cockpit  with  a 
hole  on  the  top ;  and  Armstrong  suggests  that  Michael 
Angelo  might  have  dressed  the  Charon  in  his  Last  Judgtnent 
"  in  a  chancellor's  wig,  and  stuck  a  blue  cockade  upon  his 
hat." 


THE   SCHOOL   OF    HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     41 

Samuel  Sharpe  travelled  south  in  1 765-1 766,  having  an 
interview  with  Voltaire  at  Geneva  on  his  way.  He  remarks 
that  the  Venetian  Republic  was  "  extremely  rigid  in  what 
regards  the  quarantine ;  and  indeed,  as  they  border  upon 
these  countries  where  the  plague  so  frequently  rages,  they 
cannot  be  too  watchful."  He  notes  in  one  letter :  "  I  make 
no  doubt  that  you  are  apprized  the  Italians  count  their  hours 
till  twenty-four  o'clock,"  which  is  still  the  custom  to-day. 
We  need  not  follow  him  implicitly  when  he  states  that  "  in 
Florence,  the  generality  of  Ladies  have  each  of  them  three 
Cicesbeos  :  the  first  is  the  Cicesbeo  of  dignity  ;  the  second  is 
the  Cicesbeo  who  picks  up  the  glove,  gives  the  fan,  and  pulls 
off,  or  puts  on  the  cloak,  etc. ;  the  third  Cicesbeo  is,  by  the 
wags,  deemed  the  substantial  Cicesbeo,  or  Lover."  A  point  to 
be  noted  is  that  the  right  of  sanctuary  existed  in  Sharpe's 
time  :  "  At  Florence  my  eyes  were  tired  with  the  view  of  an 
assassin  and  another  delinquent,  who  had  taken  refuge  on  the 
steps  before  a  church."  Baretti  (presently  referred  to)  has 
called  this  account  in  question,  reminding  us  that  gossip  at 
Florence  may  well  call  a  pickpocket  or  a  runaway  debtor 
assassino.  We  may  add  our  own  testimony  in  recalling  the 
proverb  : 

"  Cocchieri  et  marinaf ,  sono  assassijti  assai."  ^ 

Joseph  Baretti  (Giuseppe  Marcontonio  Baretti),  who 
was  born  in  Italy,  began  his  career  by  writing  poetry,  but  found 
his  hopes  of  success  frustrated  by  an  imprudent  squib. 
Coming  to  England,  he  obtained  an  engagement  at  the  Italian 
Opera-House  in  London,  and  published  a  Dictionary,  which 
was  of  permanent  value.  He  became  a  friend  of  Dr.  Johnson, 
who  thought  highly  of  his  conversation.  His  Account  of  the 
Manners  and  Ctistoms  of  Italy  (published  1768)  is  the  narrative 
of  a  journey  made  in  part  "  to  animadvert  upon  the  remarks 
Mr.  Sharpe  and  those  of  other  English  writers,  who  after  a 
short  tour  have  ventured  to  describe  Italy  and  the  Italians." 
Baretti  had  become  in  many  ways  Anglicised,  and  the  book  of 
an  Italian  revisiting  his  country  and  writing  of  it  in  excellent 
English  repays  perusal.  We  may,  for  the  present,  quote  his 
account  of  the  Tuscan  custom  of  competitive  improvisation, 
"that  is,  of  singing  verses  extempore  to  the  guitar  and  other 
stringed  instruments.  ...   I   can  aver  that  it  is  a  very  great 

^  "  Coachmen  and  mariners  are  mostly  murderers." 


42  THE    BOOK    OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

entertainment,  and  what  cannot  fail  of  exciting  very  great 
surprise,  to  iiear  two  of  their  best  improvvisatori,  et  cantare 
pares  et  respondcre  paraii,  and  each  eager  to  excel,  expatiate  in 
ottova  rima  upon  any  subject  moderately  susceptible  of  poetical 
amplification.  Several  times  have  I  been  astonished  at  the 
rapidity  of  their  expressions,  the  easiness  of  their  rhymes,  the 
justness  of  their  numbers,  the  copiousness  of  their  images,  and 
the  general  warmth  and  impetuosity  of  their  thoughts  ;  and  I 
have  seen  crowds  of  listeners  hurried  as  well  as  myself  into  a 
vortex  of  delight,  if  I  may  so  express  it,  whose  motion  acquired 
more  and  more  violence  as  the  bards  grew  more  and  more 
inflamed  by  the  repeated  shoutings  of  the  bystanders,  and 
by  the  force  of  that  opposition  which  each  encountered  from 
his  antagonist." 

James  Barry,  the  historical  painter,  was  in  Italy  in  1768- 
177 1,  and  wrote  letters  describing  it  to  his  friend  and  patron, 
Burke.  Barry  belongs  to  the  period  when  the  dilettanti  had 
begun  to  talk  about  the  sculptured  Laocoon  group ;  the  art- 
study  indicated  in  his  letters  is  really  a  profound  one,  and  he 
approvingly  mentions  the  "  Abbate  Winckleman,  the  Pope's 
antiquary."  Barry  has  also  the  distinction  of  having  been  the 
last  painter  to  see  Leonardo  da  Vinci's  Ceriacolo  in  anything 
like  its  former  state.^  "  I  found,"  he  writes,  "a  scaffold  erected, 
which  on  ascending,  I  saw  one  half  of  the  picture  covered  by 
a  great  cloth  ;  on  examining  the  other  part  that  was  uncovered, 
I  found  the  skin  of  colour,  which  composed  the  picture,  to  be 
all  cracked  into  little  squares  of  about  the  eighteenth  of  an 
inch  over,  which  were  for  the  most  part  in  their  edges  loosened 
from  the  wall  and  curling  up  ;  however,  nothing  was  materially 
lost.  I  saw  that  the  picture  had  been  formerly  repaired  in 
some  few  places ;  yet  as  this  was  not  much,  and  as  the  other 
parts  were  untouched,  there  was  nothing  to  complain  of.  The 
wonderful  truth  and  variety  of  the  expressions,  so  well  de- 
scribed by  Vasari  and  Rubens,  and  the  admirable  finesse  of 
finish  and  relievo  taken  notice  of  by  Armenini  were  still 
remaining."  Presently  the  cloth  on  the  other  side  is  with- 
drawn by  a  monk,  and  Barry,  seeing  the  repaint,  breaks  out 
into  a  diatribe  concluding :  "  Now  you  have  got  a  beast  to 
paint  another  picture  upon  it,  who  knows  no  more  of  the 
matter  than  you  do  yourselves  ;  there  was  no  occasion  for  this 

*  We  have  the  most  perfect  pedigree  of  this  great  work,  for  Bandello 
the  novelist  was  living  at  Santa  Maria  delle  Grazie  while  Leonardo 
painted  it. 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     43 

covering  it  over  with  new  colours ;  it  might  be  easily  secured 
in  those  parts  that  are  loosening  from  the  wall,  and  it  would 
stand  probably  as  long  as  your  order  will." 

Under  the  date  1 7  7 1  comes  Dr.  Burnev's  Music  in  France 
and  Italy,  which  does  not  afford  us  any  material  for  comment. 
Lessing's  one  journey  to  Italy  in  1775  affords  the  like  insigni- 
ficant results.  The  much-discussed  comparison  of  poetry  with 
plastic  art  based  on  the  Laocoon  group  in  the  Vatican  was 
evolved  before  Lessing  had  left  Germany.  Deriving  our 
impression  from  the  life  by  Mr.  James  Sime,  we  do  not  think 
the  severely  ^critical  temper  of  Lessing  was  much  influenced 
by  Italy.  At  Turin  he  frequents  the  museum  of  antiquities, 
and  especially  the  ancient  Egyptian  collections,  and  in  the 
library  of  the  town  he  was  able  to  discover  the  valuable 
treatise  on  art  by  Alberti.  Lessing  wrote  one  play  on  an 
Italian  subject  in  his  Emilia  Galeotti,  and  we  are  tempted  to 
say  a  word  here  on  the  inability  of  any  dramatists  except  the 
Elizabethans  to  evoke  a  dramatic  result  from  Italian  life.  The 
fundamental  quality  of  drama  is  the  working  out  of  individual 
destinies  under  the  unseen  laws  of  Fate,  and  neither  Lessing, 
nor  Goethe  in  his  Tasso,  nor  Byron  after  him  fulfilled  this 
canon  of  what  we  might  call  dramatic  mysticism.  Nor  does 
the  Italian  drama  itself  fulfil  these  conditions,  for  in  Italy 
Fate  was  eliminated  by  the  dogma  of  the  Church.  A  possible 
exception  might  be  found  in  Spanish  plays,  but  here  the  rules 
of  the  "point  of  honour"  supply  in  great  part  the  unseen 
influences  lacking  in  Italian  drama. 

Lady  Miller's  Tour  is  dated  1776,  and  has  interest  as  its 
authoress  went  into  the  best  society  of  the  time,  whose  frocks 
and  frills  she  has  described  as  a  woman  of  fashion  would, 
but  she  has  not  the"  descriptive  gift  of  Mrs.  Piozzi.  Her  chief 
claim  on  our  attention  is  her  having  measured  the  Venus  de' 
Medici,  whom  she  found  to  be  exactly  4  feet  gf  inches  in 
height.  James  Northcote,  the  biographer  of  Reynolds,  was 
at  Rome  in  1778,  and  left  an  MS.,  which  was  edited  by  Mr. 
Stephen  Gwynn  in  1898.  He  met  in  Rome  among  other 
people,  David,  the  painter  and  the  friend  of  Robespierre. 
Northcote's  work  in  Rome  consisted  rather  of  copying  than 
of  painting  original  pictures.  There  appears  to  have  been 
quite  an  English  colony  of  painters  there  ;  on  a  death  occurring 
Northcote  describes  the  necessity  of  effecting  the  funeral  in 
the  Protestant  cemetery  at  night  by  the  light  of  torches,  in 
order  not  to  offend  the  superstitious  populace. 


44  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

In  reference  to  the  French  writers,^  Voltaire  seems  never  to 
have  gone  to  Italy,  and  Ampere  remarks  that  while  Voiture  and 
Balzac  (not  the  later  novelist,  but  a  well-known  stylist)  went 
to  Rome,  not  one  of  the  great  writers  of  the  time  of  Louis  XIV. 
was  ever  there.  Such  Italian  travel-books  as  were  produced  by 
Frenchmen  dealt  more  with  social  matters  than  with  art.  The 
FtRE  Lalande  gives  many  descriptions  of  ecclesiastical  cere- 
monies in  his  voluminous  book ;  the  Abbe  Richard  in  his 
Description  Historiqiie  et  Critique  (1766)  deals  with  "govern- 
ment, arts,  commerce,  population,  and  natural  history"  in 
six  volumes ;  Pineau-Duclos,  the  secretaire  perpetuel  to  the 
French  Academy,  made  researches  into  the  customs  and  the 
finances  of  the  Papal  States  in  1767  ;  P.  J.  Grosley  in  1769 
studies  Muratori  and  early  chronicles  in  his  Observations ; 
Mme.  de  Genlis,  the  writer  of  moral  and  educational  tales, 
describes  an  Italian  journey  in  her  Metnoirs ;  her  Italian 
descriptions  lack  the  piquant  interest  of  what  she  writes  about 
France.  The  brilliant  woman-painter,  Mme  Vige'e  Le  Brun, 
fled  to  Italy  from  the  terrors  of  the  French  Revolution,  and 
has  described  her  experiences  in  her  Souvenirs,  which  are  of 
a  bright  anecdotic  nature.  She  was  honoured  in  Florence  by 
being  asked  for  her  portrait  for  the  Ufifizi,  where  it  still  hangs. 
In  Rome  she  made  friends  with  Angelica  Kauffmann,  and  at 
Naples  was  on  the  most  intimate  terms  with  Sir  William 
Hamilton  and  Emma  Hart. 

Sir  William  Hamilton  formed  a  really  fine  collection  of 
antiques,  sold  to  the  British  Museum  in  1772,  and  forming 
the  nucleus  of  the  present  collection  of  Greek  and  Roman 
antiquities.  He  also  wrote  about  Vesuvius.  John  Moore's 
View  of  Society  and  Afafiners  in  Italy  was  published  in  two 
volumes  in  1781.  It  abounds  in  such  remarks  as:  "The 
Italians,  I  am  informed,  have  a  greater  relish  for  agility  and 
high  jumping  in  their  dancers,  than  for  graceful  movements." 
The  keynote  of  the  book  may  be  seen  in  the  criticism  con- 
cerning Guido :  "  The  graceful  air  of  his  young  men,  the 
elegant  forms  and  mild  persuasive  devotion  of  his  Madonnas ; 
the  art  with  which,  to  all  the   inviting  loveliness  of  female 

'  "  The  Italians  very  generally  decry  the  French  travellers,"  writes 
Lady  Morgan,  "who,  they  assert,  never  know  or  at  least  never  speak 
their  language  ;  and  against  poor  Lalande  they  are  very  inveterate.  .  .  . 
They  (juote  with  triumph  his  florid  description  of  the  beautiful  aloe  grow- 
ing in  the  garden  of  the  Ambrosiana.  This  we  saw  just  as  blooming  as 
when  Lalande  saw  it  forty  years  ago ;  for  it  had  recently  got  a  new  coat 
of  paint ; — being  made  of  tin." 


THE   SCHOOL   OF    HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     45 

features,  he  joins  the  gentleness  and  modesty  which  belong  to 
the  female  character,  are  the  peculiar  excellencies  of  this 
charming  painter."  ^  Miss  Mary  Berry,  whose  Journals  and 
Correspondence  (1783-185 2)  were  first  printed  in  1865,  had, 
says  the  editor,  "  seen  Marie  Antoinette  in  all  her  pride  and 
beauty,"  and  yet  lived  to  "be  privately  presented  to  Queen 
Victoria  a  few  months  before  her  death."  She  was  among 
Horace  Walpole's  correspondents,  and  knew  most  of  the 
European  celebrities  for  sixty  years.  She  was  in  Italy  in  1783, 
in  1816,  and  again  in  1820;  but  she  does  not  take  advantage 
of  this  fact  to  point  out  any  changes.  Her  journal  has  some 
amusing  touches,  like  the  description  of  the  Grand  Duke's 
carriage  at  Modena  in  17S3,  as  "the  oldest,  plainest,  shabbiest 
chariot  I  ever  saw,"  and  a  horse  which  any  country  parson 
"  would  have  been  ashamed  to  own."  The  contrast  between 
the  apparent  wealth  and  the  private  penury  of  the  great  families 
in  Italy  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century  is  not  in  any 
way  exaggerated. 

Mrs.  Piozzi  (Dr.  Johnson's  Mrs.  Thrale)  has  left  us  a 
highly  entertaining  and  picturesque  account  of  her  residence 
in  Italy.  It  was  published  in  1789,  and  has  been  edited  lately 
by  the  Countess  Martinengo  Cesaresco.  Mrs.  Piozzi's  marriage 
to  an  Italian  enabled  her  to  enter  into  many  sides  of  the  life 
which  are  beyond  the  scope  of  the  ordinary  traveller.  She 
refers  to  many  things  somewhat  beneath  the  dignity  of  other 
travellers,  but  of  value  notwithstanding.  Her  account  of  the 
presepio  in  churches  or  houses  at  Christmas-time  may  be 
quoted : 

"  In  many  houses  a  room,  in  some  a  whole  suite  of  apart- 
ments, in  others  the  terrace  upon  the  house-top,  is  dedicated 
to  this  very  uncommon  show,  consisting  of  a  miniature  repre- 
sentation in  sycamore  wood,  properly  coloured,  of  the  house 
at  Bethlehem,  with  the  Blessed  Virgin,  St.  Joseph,  and  our 
Saviour  in  the  manger,  with  attendant  angels,  etc.,  as  in  pictures 
of  the  Nativity.  The  figures  are  about  six  inches  high,  and 
dressed  with  the  most  exact  propriety.  This,  however,  though 
the  principal  thing  intended  to  attract  spectators'  notice,  is 
kept  back,  so  that  sometimes  I  scarcely  saw  it  at  all ;  while  a 
general  and  excellent  landscape,  with  figures  of  men  at  work, 
women  dressing  dinner,  a  long  road  in  real  gravel,  with  rocks, 
hills,  rivers,  cattle,  camels,  everything  that  can  be  imagined, 

^  When  we  have  found  platitudes  of  this  nature  in  later  travel-books, 
we  have  not  troubled  to  describe  them  at  all. 


46  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

fill  the  other  rooms,  so  happily  disposed,  too,  for  the  most 
part,  the  light  introduced  so  artfully,  the  perspective  kept  so 
surprisingly  !  One  wonders,  and  cries  out  it  is  certainly  but 
a  baby-house  at  best;  yet  managed  by  people  whose  heads, 
naturally  turned  towards  architecture  and  design,  give  them 
power  thus  to  defy  a  traveller  not  to  feel  delighted  with  the 
general  effect ;  while  if  every  single  figure  is  not  capitally 
executed  and  nicely  expressed  beside,  the  proprietor  is  truly 
miserable,  and  will  cut  a  new  cow,  or  vary  the  horse's  attitude, 
against  next  Christmas,  coute  que  coute.  And  perhaps  I  should 
not  have  said  so  much  about  the  matter  if  there  had  not  been 
shown  me  within  this  last  week  presepios  which  have  cost  their 
possessors  fifteen  hundred  or  two  thousand  English  pounds  ; 
and,  rather  than  relinquish  or  sell  them,  many  families  have 
gone  to  ruin.  I  have  wrote  the  sums  down  in  letters,  not 
figures,  for  fear  of  the  possibility  of  a  mistake.  One  of  these 
playthings  had  the  journey  of  the  three  kings  represented  in  itj 
and  the  presents  were  all  of  real  gold  and  silver  finely  worked  ; 
nothing  could  be  better  or  more  livelily  finished." 

This  comment  of  Mrs.  Piozzi's  on  perfumes  is  as  true  to- 
day as  when  it  was  written :  "  The  Roman  Ladies  cannot 
endure  perfumes,  and  faint  away  even  at  an  artificial  rose. 
I  went  iDut  once  among  them,  when  Memmo,  the  Venetian 
ambassador,  did  me  the  honour  to  introduce  me  somewhere, 
but  the  conversation  was  soon  over — not  so  my  shame,  when 
I  perceived  all  the  company  shrink  from  me  very  oddly  and 
stop  their  noses  with  rue,  which  a  servant  brought  to  their 
assistance  on  open  salvers.  I  was  by  this  time  more  like  to 
faint  away  than  they  from  confusion  and  distress ;  my  kind 
protector  informed  me  of  the  cause,  said  I  had  some  grains  of 
marechale  powder  in  my  hair  perhaps,  and  led  me  out  of  the 
assembly,  to  which  no  entreaties  could  prevail  on  me  ever  to 
return,  or  make  further  attempts  to  associate  with  a  delicacy 
so  very  susceptible  of  offence." 

Mrs.  Piozzi,  somewhat  unexpectedly,  gives  us  a  clever 
impression  of  landscape  in  these  words  :  "  Nothing  is  so  little 
animated  by  the  sight  of  living  creatures  as  an  Italian  prospect. 
No  sheep  upon  their  hills,  no  cattle  grazing  in  their  meadows, 
no  water- fowl,  swans,  ducks,  etc.,  upon  their  lakes ;  and,  when 
you  leave  Lombardy,  no  birds  flying  in  the  air,  save  only  from 
time  to  time,  betwixt  Florence  and  Bologna,  a  solitary  kite 
soaring  over  the  surly  Apennines,  and  breaking  the  immense 
void  which  fatigues  the  eye ;  a  ragged  lad  or  wench,  too,  now 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     47 

and  then  leading  a  lean  cow  to  pick  among  the  hedges,  has  a 
melancholy  appearance,  the  more  so  as  it  is  always  fast  held 
by  a  string,  and  struggles  in  vain  to  get  loose." 

William  Beckford's  '^Dreams,  Waking  Thoughts,  and 
Incidents,  in  a  series  of  letters  from  various  parts  of  Europe," 
contribute  some  of  the  most  picturesquely  sensitive  descrip- 
tions of  Italy  in  the  latter  part  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
Beckford  was  a  young  man  of  great  wealth,  who  had  already 
written  the  romance  of  Vathek,  when  he  went  to  Italy  with  his 
tutor  (i 780-1 782).  The  Italian  letters  (including  those  on 
Spain  and  the  Low  Countries)  were  published  in  1783,  but 
almost  all  the  copies  were  destroyed  by  the  author,  and  the 
book  only  saw  the  light  in  1834.  Beckford's  career  in  Eng- 
land was  that  of  a  connoisseur  who  wasted  considerably  over 
a  million  of  money  in  the  collections  of  books  and  virtu  he 
gathered  at  Fonthill,  where  Nelson  and  Lady  Hamilton  visited 
him  together.  The  reader  will  need  no  commendation  of  the 
letters  here  chosen:  Beckford  is  at  the  beginning  of  the  romantic 
movement  which  touched  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and  Rousseau  on 
the  Continent ;  as  a  writer  of  prose  he  must  always  hold  a  high 
place  among  Englishmen.  In  sentiment  and  in  love  of  land- 
scape he  anticipates  Byron  in  some  measure,  and  he  might 
well  be  placed  in  our  next  section  of  travel  except  for  his 
general  attitude  of  connoisseurship. 

Arthur  Young's  Italian  journey  forms  an  intermezzo 
in  the  memorable  Travels  in  France  (i 787-1 789).  They 
present  a  very  important  account  of  the  agricultural  condition 
of  Italy,  but  the  traveller  sometimes  glances  at  civic  or  artistic 
matters.  His  point  of  view  is  characteristically  shown  when 
he  visits  the  Abbey  of  St.  Ambrose  in  Milan.  He  remarks  : 
"They  showed  us  a  MS.  of  Luitprandus,  dated  721,  and 
another  of  Lothaire,  before  Charlemagne.  If  they  contained 
the  register  of  their  ploughs,  they  would  have  been  interesting ; 
but  what  to  me  are  the  records  of  gifts  to  convents  for  saving 
souls  that  wanted  probably  too  much  cleaning  for  all  the 
scrubbing  brushes  of  the  monks  to  brighten?"  His  comment 
on  Venice  is  even  more  amusing  :  "  If  cheapness  of  living, 
spectacles,  and  pretty  women  are  a  man's  objects  in  fixing  his 
residence,  let  him  live  at  Venice :  for  myself  I  think  I  would 
not  be  an  inhabitant  to  the  Doge,  with  the  power  of  the  Grand 
Turk.  Brick  and  stone,  and  sky  and  water,  and  not  a  field  or 
a  bush  even  for  fancy  to  pluck  a  rose  from  !  My  heart  cannot 
expand  in  such  a  place :  an  admirable  monument  of  human 


48  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

industry,  but  not  a  theatre  for  the  feehngs  of  a  farmer  !  "  To 
quote  another  typical  passage,  Young  writes:  "The  circum- 
stance that  strikes  one  in  Florence,  is  the  antiquity  of  the 
principal  buildings ;  everything  one  sees  considerable  is  of 
three  or  four  hundred  years'  standing  :  of  new  buildings  there 
are  next  to  none  ;  all  here  remind  one  of  the  Medicis  :  there 
is  hardly  a  street  that  has  not  some  monument,  some  decora- 
tion, that  bears  the  stamp  of  that  splendid  magnificent  family. 
How  commerce  could  enrich  it  sufficiently,  to  leave  such  pro- 
digious remains,  is  a  question  not  a  little  curious  ;  for  I  may 
venture  without  apprehension  to  assert,  that  all  the  collected 
magnificence  of  the  House  of  Bourbon,  governing  for  eight 
hundred  years  twenty  millions  of  people,  is  trivial  when  com- 
pared with  what  the  Medici  family  have  left  for  the  admiration 
of  succeeding  ages — sovereigns  only  of  the  little  mountainous 
region  of  Tuscany,  and  with  not  more  than  one  million  of 
subjects."  Arthur  Young  attributes  these  enormous  results  to 
trade  having  been  a  monopoly. 

§  6.  The  Theory  of  Good  Taste  ;  Italian  Character 

The  keynote  of  travel  in  the  eighteenth  century  is  more 
diversified  than  that  of  the  seventeenth.  Addison  expresses  a 
more  abstract,  a  less  keen  humanism  in  his  preface  when  he 
writes  :  "  There  is  certainly  no  place  in  the  world  where  a 
man  may  travel  with  greater  pleasure  and  advantage  than  in 
Italy.  One  finds  something  more  particular  in  the  face  of  the 
country,  and  more  astonishing  in  the  works  of  nature,  than  can 
be  met  with  in  any  other  part  of  Europe.  It  is  the  great 
school  of  music  and  painting,  and  contains  in  it  all  the  noblest 
productions  of  statuary  and  architecture,  both  ancient  and 
modern.  It  abounds  with  cabinets  of  curiosities,  and  vast 
collections  of  all  kinds  of  antiquities.  No  other  country  in 
the  world  has  such  a  variety  of  governments,  that  are  so 
different  in  their  constitutions,  and  so  refined  in  their  politics. 
There  is  scarce  any  part  of  the  nation  that  is  not  famous  in 
history,  nor  so  much  as  a  mountain  or  river  that  has  not  been 
the  scene  of  some  extraordinary  action."  In  the  last  sentence 
is  seen  the  love  for  classical  lore,  which  still  inspired  Addison, 
and  later  on,  in  a  different  period,  Eustace  and  Macaulay. 
But  the  eighteenth- century  travellers  are  more  generally  either 
observers  of  manners,  or  enthusiasts  of  "good  taste."  De 
Brosses  and  Mrs.  Piozzi,  Samuel  Sharpe  and  Lady  Miller,  have 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM    AND   TASTE     49 

a  keen  eye  for  social  conditions,  but  less  as  humanists  than  as 
actors  in  the  genteel  comedy  of  life.  The  age  which  produced 
Pope  and  Fielding  could  not  fail  to  see  character  with  clear 
eyes. 

Such  aesthetic  culture  as  was  sought  by  travellers  was  derived 
from  rational  study  of  the  masters.  Gibbon  in  a  letter  to  his 
stepmother  (June  20,  1764)  wrote:  "I  flatter  myself  that  the 
works  of  the  greatest  artists,  which  have  been  continually 
before  my  eyes,  have  already  begun  to  form  my  taste  for  the 
fine  arts."  Sir  Joshua  in  his  Discotirses  said :  "  The  gusto 
grande  of  the  Italians ;  the  beau  ideal  of  the  French  ;  and  the 
great  style,  genius,  and  taste  among  the  English,  are  but 
different  appellations  of  the  same  thing.  It  is  this  intellectual 
dignity  .  .  .  that  ennobles  the  painter's  art.  .  .  ."  The  en- 
deavour to  find  perfection  by  the  rules  of  Burke  and  other 
philosophers  of  the  Beautiful  happily  never  found  credit  with 
Reynolds.  "  Could  we  teach  taste  or  genius  by  rules,  they 
would  be  no  longer  taste  or  genius."  Sir  Joshua  has  some 
inclination  to  discuss  art  by  these  canons,  but  he  saves  himself 
by  his  perfect  knowledge  of  craftsmanship.  Most  of  the 
contemporary  books  base  their  art  criticism  on  this  question  of 
taste,  and  it  led  to  the  admiration  of  the  Caracci,  of  Domeni- 
chino  and  Guido  Reni.  But  here  we  must  seek  to  explain 
the  overpraise  of  these  painters.  Admiring  Raphael  and 
Michael  Angelo  as  he  did,  Reynolds  was  compelled  to  seek 
a  more  complete  painter's  technique  than  those  masters 
possessed.  As  painters  of  a  certain  school  (for  we  must 
always  except  Velasquez  and  Rembrandt)  the  Italian 
Ecclectics  took  academical  painting  and  design  as  far  perhaps 
as  they  can  be  taken.  Modern  art  has  searched  for  scientific 
decomposition  of  light  or  for  realism  of  vision,  but  in  the 
actual  business  of  covering  the  canvas  the  Ecclectics  are  only 
surpassed  by  the  Venetians,  or  the  Dutch  and  the  Spanish 
master.  Reynolds  expressly  says  that  the  best  work  of 
Ludovico  Carracci  shows  the  "  power  over  materials "  which 
he  calls  style. ^  It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  in  the  Discourses 
Reynolds  is  talking  to  students,  and  the  work  of  the  Ecclectics 
is  by  its  nature  fitted  to  stand  as  the  model  of  academic  art. 
Eastlake,  discussing  this  question  in  1842,  points  out  how 
much  these  Ecclectics  were  once  admired,  and  said  "the 
change  in  more  recent  times  with  regard  to  the  homage  paid 

^  In   the    "Discourse"   for    1792    the    technical    accomplishment   of 
Raphael  and  the  Ecclectics  is  fully  contrasted. 

D 


50  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

them  has,  however,  been  owing  to  a  change  of  principle.  It 
has  been  felt  that,  in  the  attempt  to  combine  the  excellencies, 
however  great,  of  various  minds,  the  chief  recommendation  of 
human  productions,  viz.  the  evidence  of  individual  character, 
the  moral  physiognomy,  which  in  its  sincerity  and  passion 
atones  for  so  many  defects,  is  of  necessity  wanting ;  this  is  one 
reason  why  the  Germans  dwell  so  much  on  the  unaffected 
efforts  of  the  early  painters." 

The  cult  of  good  taste  will  be  sufficiently  illustrated  in  our 
extracts  from  Beckford,  but  the  eighteenth-century  view  of 
Italian  character  has  an  equal  importance.  Baretti,  as  an 
Italian  who  had  seen  a  totally  different  civilisation,  was  in  a 
position  to  give  us  a  very  clear  view  of  what  the  Italians  were. 
The  notes  we  take  from  him  are  lengthy,  but  we  believe  of 
considerable  importance  :  "  Superficial  travellers,"  he  writes, 
"  are  apt  to  speak  of  them  in  the  mass  ;  and  they  cannot  fall 
into  a  greater  mistake.  There  is  very  little  difference,  com- 
paratively speaking,  between  the  several  provinces  of  England, 
because  all  their  inhabitants  live  under  the  same  laws,  speak 
dialects  of  the  same  tongue  much  nearer  each  other  than  the 
dialects  of  Italy,  and  have  a  much  greater  intercourse  between 
themselves  than  the  Italians  have  had  these  many  ages.  No 
nations,  distinguished  by  different  names,  vary  more  from  each 
other  in  almost  every  respect  than  these  which  go  under  the 
common  name  of  Italians ;  but  still  these  provincial  discrimi- 
nations require  a  masterly  hand  in  the  description ;  and  I  am 
sure  I  feel  my  abilities  to  be  very  disproportionate  to  the  task. 
.  .  .  However,  that  I  may  not  leave  so  ample  a  topic  quite 
untouched,  I  will  here  endeavour  to  give  my  reader  what 
satisfaction  I  can  upon  the  several  characteristics  of  the 
Italians. 

"  To  begin  therefore  with  the  Piedmontese,  who  are  the 
most  Alpine  nation  of  Italy,  I  must  observe,  that  one  of  the 
chief  qualities  which  distinguish  them  from  all  other  Italians, 
is  their  want  of  cheerfulness.  A  stranger  travelling  through 
Italy  may  easily  observe,  that  all  the  nations  there  have  in 
general  very  gay  countenances,  and  visibly  appear  much  more 
inclined  to  jollity  by  their  frequent  and  obstreperous  laughing. 
But  take  a  walk  along  any  place  of  public  resort  in  any  of  the 
Piedmontese  towns,  and  you  will  presently  perceive  that  almost 
every  face  looks  cloudy  and  full  of  sullen  gravity.  There  are 
many  peculiarities  besides  this,  that  render  the  Piedmontese 
unlike   the  other    Italian.s.      Among  other  things,  it  is  very 


THE   SCHOOL  OF   HUMANISM   AND   TASTE     51 

remarkable  that  Piedmont  never  produced  a  single  poet.  .  .  . 
But  if  the  Piedmontese  are  not  to  be  compared  with  the 
Tuscans  and  other  Italians  for  that  brilliancy  of  imagination 
which  poetry  and  the  poUte  arts  require,  they  have,  on  the 
other  hand,  greatly  the  advantage  when  considered  as  soldiers. 
Though  their  troops  have  never  been  very  numerous,  every- 
body conversant  in  history  knows  the  brave  stand  they  have 
made  for  some  centuries  past  against  the  French,  Spaniards, 
and  Germans  whenever  they  were  invaded  by  these  nations.'^ 

"...  South  of  Piedmont,  and  alongshore  of  the  Tyrrhene 
Sea,  lie  the  small  but  populous  dominions  of  the  Genoese 
republic.  The  people  of  this  country  have  been  much  ex- 
posed in  ancient  days  to  the  malignity  of  wit,  and  many  of  the 
Roman  poets  have  taken  much  freedom  with  the  ancient 
Ligurians.  Yet,  whatever  truth  there  may  be  in  the  sarcastic 
sayings  of  Virgil,  Silius  Italicus,  Ausonius  and  others,  I  think 
that  a  proud  ostentation  of  learning  rather  than  sober  reason 
has  induced  many  a  modern  to  tread  in  their  footsteps.  As  a 
native  of  Turin,  I  could  not  help  being  brought  up  in  an 
unjust  aversion  to  the  Genoese :  an  aversion  very  common 
among  neighbouring  nations,  and  very  difficult  for  human 
reason  to  conquer  at  any  time  of  life.  But  having  had 
occasion,  twice  in  my  days,  and  at  distant  periods,  to  pass 
some  months  at  Genoa,  and  to  visit  the  greatest  part  of  the 
republic's  territories,  I  own  I  could  not  find  in  that  people  any 
ground  for  the  insolent  reproach,  that  their  men  are  as  devoid 
of  faith,  and  their  women  of  shame,  as  their  hills  are  of  ivood, 
and  their  sea  of  fishes.  ...  I  would  certainly  rather  choose  to 
live  with  them  at  Genoa  than  in  any  other  town  I  ever  saw ; 
because  there  the  government  is  mild,  the  climate  soft,  the 
habitations  large  and  clean,  and  the  whole  face  of  the  country 
most  romantically  beautiful.  The  Genoese  nobles^  are  in 
general  affable,  polite,  and  very  knowing :  and  their  great 
ladies  much  better  acquainted  with  books  than  any  other  set 
of  Italian  ladies.  .  ,  .  Trade  in  Genoa  is  far  from  being  de- 
rogatory to  nobility,  as  I  have  already  observed ;  so  that  even 
the  chief  senators  and  members  of  government  engage  in  it 
publicly  and  in  their  own  names.  The  Piedmontese  differ  so 
much  from  them  in  this  particular,  that  no  man  professing 
commerce,  except  a  banker,  is  allowed  in  Piedmont  to  wear  a 
sword. 

1  Without  the  bravery  of  the  Piedmontese  the  Unity  of  Italy,  effected 
long  after  Baretti  wrote,  would  have  been  an  impossibility. 


52  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

"...  The  inhabitants  of  Lombardy,  and  the  Milanese 
especially,  value  themselves  upon  their  being  de  bon  cmir ;  a 
phrase  which  in  the  spelling  appears  to  be  French,  though  it 
be  somewhat  different  in  the  meaning  as  well  as  in  the  pro- 
nunciation, answering  with  much  exactness  to  the  English 
adjective  good-natured.  Nor  do  the  Milanese  boast  unjustly  of 
this  good  quality,  which  is  so  incontrovertibly  granted  to  them 
by  all  other  Italians,  that  they  are  perhaps  the  only  nation  in 
the  world  not  hated  by  their  neighbours.  The  Piedmontese, 
as  I  said,  hate  the  Genoese  ;  the  Genoese  detest  the  Pied- 
montese, and  have  no  great  kindness  for  the  Tuscans  ;  the 
Tuscans  are  not  very  fond  of  the  Venetians  or  the  Romans  ; 
the  Romans  are  far  from  abounding  in  good  will  to  the 
Neapolitans  ;  and  so  round.  .  .  .  But  the  Milanese  are,  much 
to  their  honour,  an  exception  to  the  general  rule.  ...  They 
are  commonly  compared  to  the  Germans  for  their  plain 
honesty,  and  to  the  French  for  their  fondness  of  pomp  and 
elegance  in  equipages  and  household  furniture ;  and  I  have  a 
mind  to  add  that  they  resemble  the  English  in  their  love  of 
good  eating.  .  .  .  The  Milanese  are  likewise  remarkable 
amongst  the  Italians  for  their  love  of  rural  amusements.  They 
generally  pass  the  greatest  part  of  the  summer  and  the  whole 
autumn  in  the  country,  and  they  have  good  reason  for  so 
doing,  as  that  hilly  province  of  theirs  called  Mojite  di  Briattza, 
where  their  country-houses  chiefly  lie,  is  in  my  opinion  the 
most  delightful  in  all  Italy  for  the  variety  of  its  landscapes,  the 
gentleness  of  its  rivers,  and  the  multitude  of  its  lakes. 

"...  The  Venetians  are  indeed  more  addicted  to  sen- 
suality than  more  northern  nations,  and  love  cards  rather 
too  passionately;  but  their  fondness  for  cards  aiid  women 
excludes  them  not  from  the  possession  of  many  virtues  and 
good  qualities  very  estimable  and  useful  in  society.  They  are 
most  remarkably  temperate  in  their  way  of  living,  though  very 
liberal  in  spending.  .  .  .  They  are  so  characteristically  tender- 
hearted, that  the  least  affectionate  word  melts  them  at  once, 
makes  them  lay  aside  any  animosity,  and  suddenly  reconciles 
them  to  those  whom  they  disliked  before.  Of  this  quality  in 
them,  strong  traces  are  presently  discovered  in  their  very 
dialect,  which  seems  almost  composed  of  nothing  else,  but  of 
kind  words  and  endearing  epithets.^     However,  this  humane 

1  Mrs.  Piozzi  says  :  "  At  Venice  the  sweetness  of  the  patois  is  irresis- 
tible ;  their  lips,  incapable  of  uttering  any  but  the  sweetest  sounds,  reject  all 
consonants  they  can  get  quit  of,  and  make  their  mouths  drop  honey." 


THE   SCHOOL   OF   HUMANISM   AND   TASTE     53 

turn  of  mind  shows  itself  much  seldomer  in  their  nobihty  than 
in  the  people.  ...  It  is  well  known  that  the  Venetian  nobles, 
together  with  the  very  meanest  of  their  servants  and  depend- 
ants, are  forbidden  by  a  most  severe  law  to  speak  or  hold  any 
correspondence  with  any  person  whatsoever  who  resides  in 
Venice  in  a  public  character  from  any  foreign  sovereign,  or 
even  with  the  servants  and  dependants  of  such  persons.  .  .  . 
As  all  strangers  of  any  distinction  generally  frequent  the 
houses  of  the  foreign  ministers,  the  nobles  dare  not  see  them 
often,  and  even  shun  those  places  where  strangers  resort  most. 
By  these  means  they  are  almost  reduced  to  the  necessity  of 
only  conversing  among  themselves  ;  and  as  very  few  of  them 
are  even  allowed  to  travel  by  the  inquisitors  of  state  (without 
whose  permission  they  will  scarcely  venture  to  go  so  far  as 
their  country  houses  when  situated  at  any  considerable  distance 
from  Venice)  their  manners  are  borrowed  from  no  nation  (as 
is  partly  the  case  with  all  other  Italians)  but  are  perfectly  their 
own,  and  have  not  changed  for  many  centuries. 

"...  As  to  the  customs  and  manners  of  these  provinces 
of  Italy,  which  belong  to  the  republic,  they  are  considerably 
different  from  those  of  Venice,  and  approach  nearly  to  those 
of  Austrian  Lombardy.  The  people  of  Brescia  ^  made  it  for- 
merly a  point  of  honour  to  be  great  bullies  ;  and  I  remember 
the  time  myself  when  it  was  dangerous  to  have  any  dealings 
with  them,  as  they  were  much  inclined  to  quarrel  merely  for  a 
whim,  and  would  presently  challenge  one  to  fight  with  pistol 
or  blunderbuss.  And  when  it  was  the  fashion  amongst  our 
great  folks  to  have  any  enemy  treacherously  murdered,  a  bravo 
was  easily  hired  amongst  the  low  people  of  this  town  and  pro- 
vince. But  such  abominable  customs  have  now  been  abolished 
many  years.  ...  It  has  often  been  asserted  by  writers  of 
travels,  that  many  of  the  Italian  provinces  are  but  thinly  in- 
habited, and  that  the  badness  of  the  government  is  the  cause  of 
their  depopulation.  If  there  be  any  truth  in  this  remark,  it  is 
certainly  with  regard  to  Ferrara  and  its  territory.  .  .  .  The  natives 
of  this  duchy,  which  I  have  only  visited  in  a  cursory  manner,  are 
very  modest  and  ceremonious,  if  one  may  judge  of  their  private 
deportment  by  what  they  appear  in  their  places  of  public  resort. 
By  virtue  of  an  ancient  privilege,  whereof  they  are  not  a  little 
proud,  even  their  tailors  and  coble  rs  can  strut  about  with  a 
sword  at  their  side.  .  .  .  From  this  duchy  we  enter  the  state 

^  Brescia,  in  Evelyn's  day,  was  a  great  place  for  the  manufacture  of  fire- 
arms. 


54  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

of  Bologna,  of  which  the  Pope  is  likewise  possessed.  Bologna 
has  been  much  renowned  for  many  ages  on  account  of  its  univer- 
sity, which  boasts  of  being  the  most  ancient  in  Europe,  and 
even  to  this  day  preserves  a  kind  of  pre-eminence  over  all  other 
Italian  universities,  as  it  is  said  to  be  furnished  with  learned 
professors  more  abundantly  than  any  other,  though  their 
stipends  are  much  smaller.  The  nobility  and  genteel  people 
of  Bologna  have  long  possessed  the  reputation  of  being  upon 
the  whole  more  acquainted  with  books  than  those  of  any  other 
Italian  towns.  ...  Of  the  Romagna,  Umbria,  and  other  papal 
provinces,  I  have  little  to  say,  as  I  have  only  crossed  them 
hastily.  It  is  affirmed  that  their  inhabitants,  the  Romagnoles 
especially,  are  remarkable  for  their  rudeness  and  ferocious 
temper. 

"...  The  Romans  of  to-day  have  somewhat  degenerated 
from  their  ancestors ;  or,  to  speak  more  properly,  their  art  of 
managing  nations  has  at  last  been  learnt  by  other  people. 
The  principles  of  policy  and  government  are  at  present  more 
generally  understood  ;  and  the  Pope  is  not  now  the  only  prince 
who  has  the  means  of  an  universal  information  and  extensive 
influence.  However,  to  me  the  Romans  still  appear  superior 
on  the  whole  to  all  other  people  in  Europe,  or  at  least  to  all 
other  nations  in  Italy.  .  .  .  They  are  habitually  well-bred, 
careful  to  please,  and  anxious  to  get  new  friends  and  new 
connections.  Their  cardinals  and  principal  monsignori's  seem 
in  general  to  have  a  greater  turn  for  the  science  of  politics 
than  for  any  other ;  and  it  is  believed  that  a  stranger  who  has 
any  public  business  to  transact  with  their  statesmen  has  need 
to  be  very  dexterous  and  cautious  not  to  be  outwitted.  .  .  . 
Tuscany  was  the  mistress  of  politeness  to  France,  as  France 
has  since  been  to  all  the  western  world ;  and  this  little  pro- 
vince may  justly  boast  of  having  produced  (and  nearly  at  one 
time)  a  greater  number  of  extraordinary  men  than  perhaps  any 
of  the  most  extensive  European  kingdoms.  .  .  .  The  Tuscans 
were  smitten  by  the  charms  of  poetry  to  a  greater  degree  than  any 
other  people,  as  soon  as  their  language  began  to  be  turned  to- 
wards verse.  .  .  .  That  sensibility  of  heart  which  has  long  made 
the  Tuscans  thus  enamoured  with  poetry,  has  likewise  totally 
wore  out  that  ferocity  for  which  they  were  so  remarkable  in  the 
brutal  times  of  the  Guelphs  and  Ghibelines ;  and  has  brought 
them  to  be  perhaps  the  most  gentle  and  amiable  nation  now 
extant.  This  character  of  gentleness  is  indeed  easily  to  be 
perceived  by  any  traveller  as  soon  as  from  Bologna  he  reaches 


THE   SCHOOL  OF   HUMANISM   AND   TASTE     55 

the  highest  top  of  the  Apennine,  where  all  strangers  are  treated 
with  the  softest  urbanity  by  these  mountaineers,  who  to  the 
simplicity  which  is  natural  to  all  inhabitants  of  extensive  ridges 
of  hills,  join  the  most  obliging  expressions  and  most  respectful 
manners." 

We  may  supplement  Baretti's  notions  of  local  character  by 
an  attempted  estimate  of  Italian  character  in  general.  Of 
the  respect  paid  to  their  love  of  beauty  by  all  travellers  we 
need  not  speak,  for  that  is  obvious ;  but  between  the  lines  of 
eighteenth-century  travels,  extremely  keen  in  the  search  for 
character,  we  may  perceive  a  certain  dissatisfaction  with  Italians 
personally.  The  Italian,  much  as  his  taste  and  refinement 
were  deferred  to,  was  at  a  disadvantage  when  meeting  the 
foreigner  on  questions  of  government.  He  had  no  sheet- 
anchor  of  loyalty  to  a  king  or  a  constitution ;  no  prevailing 
theory  of  national  progress.  He  loved  his  town,  but  that  was 
mostly  a  decadent  power.  The  Frenchman  came  to  him  as 
representative  of  a  country  which  prided  itself  as  being  the 
exponent  of  manners  in  Europe ;  the  Englishman  had  the 
pride  of  his  wealth  as  landowner  and  the  fine  animal  spirits  of 
the  lover  of  sport.  The  Italian  had  the  artistic  treasures  of 
his  country,  but  they  belonged  to  the  past.  To  the  instinctive 
unspoken  query  "  What  are  you  ? "  he  could  give  no  reply. 
In  character  he  was  infinitely  more  complex  than  his  guests ; 
for  modern  Italy,  as  the  product  of  a  second  civilisation  out 
of  the  remains  of  an  older  one,  had  gone  from  the  homogeneous 
to  the  heterogeneous  state.  We  must  add  to  this  the  former 
Teutonic  and  the  actual  Spanish  and  Austrian  dominations, 
with  the  perpetual  unseen  tyranny  of  the  Papacy.  The  Italian 
was  not  his  own  man,  and  he  was  accused  of  dissimulation 
where  he  was  only  steering  a  safe  course  between  very  real 
dangers.  The  artistic  temperament  had  made  it  difficult  for 
him  to  see  the  blessings  of  unified  government ;  in  his  search 
for  the  infinite  he  had  lost  hold  of  the  humble  realities  of 
human  happiness.  He  could  not  appeal  to  ancient  Rome, 
for  Catholicism  had  won  its  triumph  by  destroying  the  ancient 
empire,  and  Guicciardini  had  pointed  out  that  Machiavelli's 
Roman  sympathies  were  illogical;  when  Leopardi  came,  he 
could  look  back  to  Rome  as  an  example,  but  only  because 
religion  had  begun  to  lose  its  hold. 

The  Italian  in  our  own  day  preserves  a  gentilezza,  which 
is  the  cloak  of  very  strong  passions.  With  many  virtues  and 
qualities  he  was  more  complex  and  less  easy  to  deal  with  than 


56  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

other  Europeans.  He  now  has  won  his  national  unity  and 
has  become  more  Hke  other  Europeans,  but  the  impress  of 
hundreds  of  years  of  repression  is  not  easy  to  shake  off.  He 
will  calculate  with  a  great  deal  of  profundity  about  very  small 
matters  ,;  but  that  is  a  habit  rather  than  a  vice,  for  it  does  not 
follow  that  his  calculation  goes  towards  an  egoistic  purpose. 
Outwardly  he  appears  very  simple  and  childlike,  but  his  in- 
tellect is  highly  developed  ;  and  he  is  not  entirely  the  creature 
of  momentary  impressions.  We  shall  rather  find  the  key  to 
his  nature  in  the  word  versatility,  a  quality  which  has  its 
dangers,  but  which  gives  a  perpetual  fascination  to  life.  This 
versatility  was  the  result  of  the  clash  of  all  the  varied  influ- 
ences that  moulded  the  Italian  nature  till  the  French  Revolu- 
tion. If  the  men  of  the  Renaissance  sought  to  take  all 
knowledge  for  their  province,  Dante  had  already  done  so  in 
his  time ;  the  first  indications  of  the  possibility  of  the  un- 
discovered world  of  America  arose  in  Italy,  as  did  the  first 
modern  curiosity  about  ancient  Egypt.  The  Italian  presents 
the  curious  aspect  of  an  archgeologian  who  yet  stretches  out 
his  hands  towards  the  discoveries  of  science  ;  and  in  his  every- 
day life  he  does  not  divorce  superstition  from  a  keen  vision  of 
modern  necessities.  Christian  and  pagan,  artist  and  realist, 
sensuous  and  yet  self-denying,  he  remains  in  extremes. 

There  was  in  all  this  too  much  subtlety  for  the  understand- 
ing of  the  eighteenth  century,  with  its  rationally  calm  methods 
of  thought.  The  Italians  seen  by  De  Brosses  or  Baretti  were 
going  through  one  of  those  long  periods  of  depression  which 
come  to  a  race  which  has  overtaxed  its  powers  in  splendid 
effort.  But  even  in  his  darkest  hours  the  Italian  preserved 
his  enthusiasm  and  still  hoped  for  better  things,  for  with  the 
privileges  and  the  pains  of  genius  he  had  the  secret  consola- 
tions which  more  practical  people  do  not  possess. 


PART    II 


ITALY  AND  THE  MODERN  SPIRIT 

As  we  approach  the  French  Revolution  we  breathe  a  fresher 
and  more  bracing  air ;  the  Gothic  age  of  Italy  always  has  a 
faint  smell  of  incense,  and  the  Renaissance  is  laden  with  heavy 
perfumes  of  luxury  and  passion.  Even  the  rationalism  of  the 
eighteenth  century  is  somewhat  formal  and  pedantic  compared 
with  the  frank  defiance  of  the  revolutionary  era.  Hitherto 
our  travellers  have  run  in  grooves,  and  follow  the  general  trend 
of  opinion  with  slavish  fidelity.  We  shall  still  see  the  schools 
succeed  each  other,  but  the  personality  of  the  writers  is  clearly 
marked.  Italy  itself  was  still  living  in  the  past,  and  the  clash 
of  the  protected  Republics  and  Principalities  with  the  revolu- 
tionary spirit  would  be  tragic  if  it  were  not  amusing.  But 
before  coming  to  the  Napoleonic  era  we  have  to  discuss  some 
important  travellers  who  link  together  the  two  periods. ' 

§  1.  Goethe  and  Mme.  De  Stael 

Goethe's  1  Italian  experiences  (September  1786  to  April 
1788)  have  been  well  described  by  Prof.  Herford  "as  interest- 
ing us  even  more  as  biography  than  as  travel.  .  .  .  The  work 
called  the  Italienische  Reise  was  worked  up  by  Goethe  thirty 
years  after  the  journey  itself,  from  the  journals  and  letters 
written  at  the  time.  A  large  number  of  the  originals  he  then 
destroyed.  But  the  valuable  Journal  sent  to  Frau  von  Stein 
and  a  number  of  the  letters  to  Herder  were  happily  preserved, 
and  have  now  been  issued  by  the  Goethe-Gesellschaft,  admir- 
ably edited  by  Eric  Schmidt"  {Taylorian  Lecture  for  1898).- 
Professor  Herford  indicates  that  the  main  research  of  Goethe 
in  Italy  was  connected  with  antiquity  rather  than  the  period 

1  Schiller  was  never  in  Italy,  but  chose  the  subject  of  the  Genovese 
conspiracy  in  1547  for  his  drama  called  Fiesco. 
^  Published  by  the  Oxford  University  Press. 

57 


58  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

expressed  in  Faust.  Goethe,  delighted  as  he  had  been  with 
his  initiation  into  classical  beauty  at  Weimar,  had  temporarily 
lost  his  love  for  an  art  which  could  only  appeal  to  him  through 
incomplete  reproductions,  in  woodcut  and  plaster  cast."  Sus- 
pecting that  the  theories  of  Winckleman  about  the  repose  and 
majesty  of  ancient  art  did  not  contain  the  entire  truth,  Goethe 
had  an  increasing  desire  to  go  to  Rome  and  see  for  himself. 
Goethe,  we  must  not  forget,  is  half  of  the  eighteenth  century 
and  half  of  the  nineteenth  century  :  with  the  former  he  looks 
for  Good  Taste,  for  the  abstract  quality  of  beauty  ;  with  the 
latter  he  is  seeking  for  the  more  living  inspiration,  the  creation 
at  white  heat,  the  personal  expression  and  the  nature-worship 
of  romanticism.  Weary  of  a  conventional  Germany,  and  with 
all  the  desire  which  led  the  Teutons  southwards  for  centuries, 
he  begins  to  feel  in  his  thirty-seventh  year  that  if  he  does  not 
go  to  Italy,  he  will  "  go  mad."  What  Goethe  wanted  to  find 
in  Italy  is  not  easy  to  explain  :  most  critical  writers  on  the 
problem  expend  a  great  deal  of  language  with  little  result 
that  we  can  take  hold  of.  One  of  the  poet's  dicta  will  perhaps 
best  aid  us  :  "  If  the  artist,  by  imitating  Nature,  by  striving  to 
find  a  universal  expression  for  it,  by  exact  and  profound  study 
of  the  objects  themselves,  finally  attains  to  an  exact  and  ever 
exacter  knowledge  of  the  qualities  of  things  and  the  mode  of 
their  existence,  so  that  he  surveys  the  whole  series  of  forms, 
and  can  range  together  and  imitate  the  various  characteristic 
shapes,  then  what  he  achieves,  if  he  achieves  his  utmost,  and 
what,  if  achieved,  sets  his  work  on  a  level  with  the  highest 
efforts  of  man,  is  Style."  The  definition  appears  to  relate  to 
the  art  of  design,  but  Goethe  habitually  spoke  of  one  art  in 
terms  of  another.  Going  to  Italy  as  a  poet  seeking  for  the 
law  governing  creative  art,  he  still  talks  of  style  (which  is  a 
great  deal  more  than  good  taste),  but  with  the  added  scientific 
necessity  of  finding  "universal  expression."  Eighteenth-century 
good  taste  as  a  rule  was  directed  to  finding  an  art  which 
should  give  pleasure,  Goethe's  conception  is  of  a  search  for 
something  going  beyond  the  approval  of  the  dilettanti.  After 
a  very  brief  sojourn  in  Rome,  Goethe  writes  :  "  Here  I  feel 
calm,  and  tranquillised,  I  believe,  for  my  remaining  life." 

Had  he  found  what  he  sought  ?  At  any  rate,  he  writes  : 
"  So  much  is  certain  :  the  old  artists  had  as  complete  a  know- 
ledge of  Nature,  and  as  definite  an  idea  of  what  can  be 
represented  and  how  it  must  be  represented,  as  Homer  had. 
These  great  works  of  art  were  at  the  same  time  supreme  works 


ITALY  AND   THE   MODERN   SPIRIT  59 

of  Nature,  produced  by  men  according  to  just  and  natural 
laws.  All  that  is  arbitrary  or  fantastic  falls  away  ;  here  is 
necessity,  here  is  God."  The  majestic  unity  and  complete- 
ness of  Greek  sculpture  became  infinitely  more  to  him  than 
the  suavity  of  the  art  oi  good  taste ;  and  the  classic  spirit  was  a 
complete  contrast  to  the  modern  idea,  even  then  coming  into 
vogue  with  the  nearing  French  Revolution,  with  its  Democratic 
hurry,  its  gigantic  egoism,  and  its  desire  to  possess  without 
earning,  to  enjoy  without  suffering.  Goethe  had  never  reached 
a  full  conception  of  artistic  unity  till  he  went  to  Rome  ;  even 
the  first  part  of  Faust  is  a  collection  of  morceaux  cleverly 
welded  together,  deriving  unity  from  their  psychological,  their 
human  interest  rather  than  their  governing  artistic  motive. 
To  understand  Goethe's  search  in  Italy  we  must  contrast 
Wilhelm  Meister  and  its  fascinating  impressionism  with  the 
clear-cut  classic  lines  of  his  poems  written  in  Rome.  On  his 
return  home  he  came  to  see  the  value  of  national  subjects,^ 
and  it  is  in  Hermann  and  Dorothea  that  he  combines  the 
nature  and  simplicity  of  classic  art  with  the  homely  sweetness 
of  German  rural  life.  The  objection  may  be  made  that 
Goethe  is  always  searching  consciously  for  perfection,  but 
perhaps  that  is  the  fault  of  modernity,  with  its  text-books  for 
all  the  arts.  Goethe  finally  saved  himself  "  by  an  exact  and 
profound  study  of  the  objects  themselves,"  and  chose  for  the 
object  of  that  study  the  life  of  his  own  people  and  his  own 
time. 

The  whole  question  of  Goethe's  travels  has  been  interest- 
ingly studied  by  M.  Theophile  Cart.  It  is  not  possible  to  say 
that  Goethe  assisted  in  making  Italy  better  understood  than  it 
had  been.  His  letters  give  us  the  opinions  of  an  exceptional 
mind,  and  show  a  synthesis  of  the  stock  of  ideas  of  his  age. 
The  pioneers  of  the  new  spirit  are  not  necessarily  men  of 
importance,  and  Goethe  did  not  aid  in  the  imminent  "discovery" 
of  Gothic  architecture.  It  is  in  the  temper  of  inquiry  and 
freedom  from  prejudice  that  he  is  modern ;  in  his  self-analysis 
by  the  touchstone  of  antiquity — for  he  goes  to  Italy  as  much  to 
discover  his  own  soul  as  that  of  the  country — he  leaps  over 
the  gap  of  a  hundred  years  and  belongs  to  the  end  of  the 
nineteenth  century.  Not  a  few  of  the  poet's  opinions  will  be 
found  in  our  selections,  arranged  mostly  as  pense'es,  and  their 
deep  philosophy  and  vivid  sense  of  history  are  beyond  praise. 

^  Cervantes,  too,  finally  devoted  his  genius  to  an  essentially  Spanish 
subject,  just  as  Chaucer  found  himself  in  the  Canterbury  Tales. 


6o  THE    BOOK    OF    ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

One  personal  note  may  be  placed  here,  as  showing  to  what 
lengths  connoisseurs  carried  their  admiration  of  art.  "  Sir 
William  Hamilton,"  writes  Goethe  from  Naples,  "  who  still 
resides  here  as  ambassador  from  England,  has  at  length,  after 
his  long  love  of  art,  and  long  study,  discovered  the  most 
perfect  of  admirers  of  nature  and  art  in  a  beautiful  young 
woman.  ^  She  lives  with  him  :  an  English  woman  of  about 
twenty  years  old.  She  is  very  handsome,  and  of  a  beautiful 
figure.  The  old  knight  has  made  for  her  a  Greek  costume, 
which  becomes  her  extremely.  Dressed  in  this,  and  letting 
her  hair  loose,  and  taking  a  couple  of  shawls,  she  exhibits 
every  possible  variety  of  posture,  expression,  and  look,  so  that 
at  the  last  the  spectator  almost  fancies  it  is  a  dream.  One 
beholds  here  in  perfection,  in  movement,  in  ravishing  variety, 
all  that  the  greatest  of  artists  have  rejoiced  to  be  able  to 
produce.  Standing,  kneeling,  sitting,  lying  down,  grave  or 
sad,  playful,  exulting,  repentant,  wanton,  menacing,  anxious — all 
mental  states  follow  rapidly  one  after  another.  With  wonderful 
taste  she  suits  the  folding  of  her  veil  to  each  expression,  and  with 
the  same  handkerchief  makes  every  kind  of  head-dress.  The 
old  knight  holds  the  light  for  her,  and  enters  into  the  exhibition 
with  his  whole  soul.  He  thinks  he  can  discern  in  her  a  resem- 
blance to  all  the  most  famous  antiques,  all  the  beautiful  profiles 
on  the  Sicilian  coins — aye,  of  the  Apollo  Belvedere  itself.  This 
much  at  any  rate  is  certain — the  entertainment  is  unique." 

Deferring  the  consideration  of  Napoleon  for  the  moment, 
we  come  to  Mme.  de  Stael,  who,  exiled  from  France  by 
Napoleon,  went  from  Coppet  to  Italy  in  1804.  Among  her 
friends  were  Monti  the  poet,  Bonstetten,  Humboldt,  William 
von  Schlegel,  and  Sismondi.  Angelica  Kaufmann  (the  friend  of 
Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  and  of  Goethe),  the  young  Thorwaldsen, 
and  Canova,  who  was  to  become  the  sculptor  of  Napoleon 
as  Emperor,  were  the  artists  in  vogue.  Goethe  had  thought 
that  what  he  called  Mme.  de  Stael's  "  convinced  lack  of 
artistic  form  "  would  prevent  her  producing  anything  of  interest, 
but  Corinne  was  the  result  of  her  year's  journey.  The  book 
has  undoubtedly  had  its  influence  on  European  literature ; 
its  graceful  periods  are  still  interesting  to  read,  and  as  a  com- 
position with  an  ideal  figure  posed  against  a  background 
of  Italian  architecture  or  scenery,  it  has  some  claim  as  a 
creative  work.     The  scene  in  the  Capitol,  in  which  Corinne 

^  Emma    Hart,    afterwards    Lady    Hamilton.       Some   of  her   letters, 
during  the  Nelson  episode,  give  pretty  glimpses  of  Court  life  at  Naples. 


ITALY   AND    THE    MODERN    SPIRIT  6i 

the  poetess  is  crowned,  is  really  an  amplification  of  the  homage 
paid  to  Mme.  de  Stael  in  Rome  ;  and  as  it  has  been  said  that 
Dephme  was  what  Mme.  de  Stael  was,  so   Corimie  was  what 
she  wanted  to  be.     Corinne,  it  is  true,  is  drawn  as  a  young 
English  girl,  whose  mother  was  Italian  ;  seeking  freedom,  she 
has  gone  to  Rome,  and  it  is  by  no  stretch  of  the  imagination 
that  we  see  her  holding  her  salon  and  meeting  men  on  equal 
terms,  without  forfeiting  public  esteem.      The  beautiful  im- 
provvisatrice,  Isabella  Pelligrini,  who  died  young,  was  among 
the  women  poets  whom  Mme.  de  Stael  met,  and  who  were  on 
fully  equal  terms  with  their  contemporaries.     Corinne  happens 
to  fall  in  love  with  a  young  Enghsh  noble,  Oswald,  and  it  is 
with  a  very  simple  plot  of  passion  and  despair  that  the  de- 
scriptions of  Italy  are  intermingled.       Oswald,   with  all  his 
admiration  of  Corinne's  poetry,   of  her  innocent  freedom  of 
life,   wishes  her  to  become  the  submissive   wife   of   English 
society.     Corinne  cannot  forfeit  her  independence,  and  finally 
dies  of  love  in  a  swan-like  manner  that  was  customary  to  the 
heroines  of  romance  in  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
This  scheme  enables  the  writer  to  see  Italy  through  an  atmos- 
phere of  joy  or  sorrow,  and  there  is  something  very  attractive 
in  the  mild  way  in  which  the  hero  receives  instruction  from 
the  learned  and  talented  Corinne.     The  sketches  of  Enghsh, 
French,  or  Italian  character  are  vivid  ;  the  psychology  tender 
and  not  forced.     Byron  wrote  a  passionate  letter  in  La  Guic- 
cioli's  copy  of  the  book,    and  also   in  a  note  remarked  of 
Mme.  de  Stael :  "  She  is  sometimes  right,  and  often  wrong 
about  Italy  and  England  ;  but  almost  always  true  in  delineating 
the  heart,  which  is  of  but  one  nation,  and  of  no  country,  or, 
rather,  of  all." 

But  this  is  not  the  chief  interest  of  Mme.  de  Stael's 
writings.  She  is  the  founder  of  a  cosmopolitan  literature  in 
that  she  clearly  marks  national  differences  of  character.  In 
Corinne,  the  search  is  not  for  a  criterion  of  good  taste,  or  a 
standard  of  beauty ;  it  is  not  for  the  still  earlier  humanism. 
Mme.  de  Stael  wants  to  show  us  the  contrast  of  national 
character,  and  the  influence  of  new  surroundings  on  it.  Her 
passion  is  feeble  when  compared  with  Rousseau,  her  his- 
toric imagination  tame  when  compared  with  Chateaubriand. 
Ampere  has  pointed  out  that  "  in  her  delineation  of  places 
that  impressed  her,  we  admire  the  loftiness  and  strength  of 
the  ideas  suggested  by  things  seen,  rather  than  their  actual 
representation."     Classic  art  said  little  to  her ;   the  pictorial 


62  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

masters  left  her  cold,  and  when  she  speaks  of  them  it  is  in 
an  abstract  way.  Nevertheless  Italians  still  give  a  high  place 
to  Corinne,  and  it  is  interesting  to  see  them  studying  their 
own  country  through  a  foreigner's  eyes.  Till  Beckford's  time 
the  foreigner  had  to  take  his  ideas  on  Italy  from  the  native 
historians,  antiquarians,  or  dilettanti.  When  Mme.  de  Stael 
crowns  her  Corinne  in  the  Capitol,  she  shows  that  the  north 
has  appreciated  Italy,  and  that  the  natives  are  willing  them- 
selves to  learn  from  that  appreciation.  The  book  had 
enormous  influence  in  France,  and  according  to  M.  Albert 
Sorrel :  "  Corinne  was,  to  a  whole  generation  of  generous, 
romantic,  and  passionate  men  and  women  the  book  of  love 
and  of  the  ideal.  It  was  a  revelation  of  Italy  to  many  French 
people.  It  made  Italy  for  years  the  land  of  lovers  and  the 
cherished  end  of  all  travels  in  quest  of  happiness." 

Among  historians  William  Roscoe  (1753-1831)  is  a 
sympathetic  figure.  Brought  up  to  the  profession  of  the  law 
in  Liverpool,  he  imbibed  a  taste  for  Italian  poetry  in  his  youth, 
and  in  1790  began  to  work  on  the  Life  of  Lorenzo  di  Medici. 
A  friend  consulted  rare  manuscripts  and  books  on  his  behalf 
in  Florence,  and  Roscoe  published  his  first  edition  in  1796. 
It  won  the  warm  approval  of  Lord  Orford  and  other  dis- 
tinguished men,  and  two  years  later  Roscoe  began  his 
History  of  Leo  X.  Owing  to  business  losses  he  had  to  sell 
his  fine  library,  but  his  zeal  for  learning  was  recognised  in  the 
appreciation  of  friends  who  raised  a  sum  of  ^2500  for  him. 
His  influence  brought  the  subject  of  Italian  literature  forward 
in  northern  countries,  and  his  son  Thomas  Roscoe,  by  trans- 
lating some  of  the  Italian  novelists  and  Lanzi's  History  of 
Painting,  continued  his  good  work.  Samuel  Forsyth 
travelled  in  Italy  in  1802,  and  was  detained  in  France  on  his 
way  home  under  the  arbitrary  order  of  Buonaparte's  regulations 
against  British  subjects.  Curiously  enough,  his  book  was  a 
favourite  of  Buonaparte's,  though  (published  during  his  ten 
years'  detention)  it  did  not  obtain  Forsyth's  release.  His 
opinions  are  mostly  too  fragmentary  for  quotation,  but  he 
gives  us  a  helpful  criticism  of  ancient  art  when  he  refers  to 
the  "  colossal  taste  which  arose  in  the  empire,  and  gave  an 
unnatural  expansion  to  all  works  of  art.  In  architecture  it 
produced  Nero's  golden  house  and  Adrian's  villa  ;  in  hydraulics 
it  projected  the  Claudian  emissary,  and  Caligula's  Baian  bridge  ; 
in  sculpture  it  has  left  at  the  Capitol  such  heads  and  feet  as 
betray  the  emperor's  contempt  for  the  dimensions  of  man  ; 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN    SPIRIT  63 

in  poetry  it  swelled  out  in  the  hyperboles  of  Lucan  and 
Statius."  Forsyth  had  a  pretty  gift  of  sarcasm,  sometimes 
unnecessarily  exerted,  concerning  Italian  manners. 

Chateaubriand  was  in  Italy  in   1803-4  seeking  material 
for  his  book  Les  Martyrs.     He  wrote  a  useful,  if  not  always 
accurate,  description  of  Hadrian's  villa ;  and  a  long  letter  on 
Rome,  written  to  a  friend,  M.  de  Fontanes,   contains  some 
philosophic  reflections,  and  the  following  admirable  pictorial 
note :    "  Nothing   can    be   so   beautiful  as    the   lines   of  the 
Roman  horizon,  the  gentle  inclination  of  the  planes,  and  the 
soft  fugitive  outlines  of  the  mountains  which  bound  them. 
...  A  singular  tint  and    most  peculiar  harmony  unite  the 
earth,  the  sky,  and  the  waters.     All  the  surfaces  are  blended 
at  their  extremities  by  means  of  an  insensible  gradation  of 
colour,  and  without  the  possibility  of  ascertaining  the  point 
at  which  one  ends,  or  another  begins.     You  have  doubtless 
admired  this  sort  of  light  in  Claude    Lorraine's  landscapes. 
It  appears  ideal,   possessing  a  beauty  beyond  nature ;   it    is 
nevertheless   the   genuine   light   of  Rome."      Chateaubriand 
shows  himself  extremely  sensitive  to  light,   and  in  this  an- 
ticipates the  beautiful  skies  which  are  the  noblest  part  of  the 
art  of  Turner.     We  make   no  apology  for  inserting   such  a 
picture  as  this  of  Chateaubriand's :  "  I   did  not   neglect  to 
visit  the  Villa  Borghese,  and  to  admire  the  sun  as  he  cast  his 
setting  beams  upon  the  cypresses  of  Mount  Marius  and  the 
pines  of  the  Villa  Pamphili,  planted  by  Le  Notre.     I  have  also 
often  directed  my  way  up  the  Tiber  to  enjoy  the  grand  scene 
of  departing  day  at  Ponte  Mole.     The  summits  of  the  Sabine 
mountains   then   appear  to  consist  of  lapis-laziili  and    pale 
gold,  while  their  bases  and  sides  are  enveloped  in  a  vapour, 
which  has  a  violet  or  purple  tint.     Sometimes  beautiful  clouds, 
like  light  chariots,  borne  on  the  winds  with  inimitable  grace, 
make  you  easily  comprehend  the  appearance  of  the  Olympian 
deities  under  this  mythologic  sky.     Sometimes  ancient  Rome 
seems  to  have  stretched  into  the  west  all  the  purple  of  her 
Consuls  and  her  Cfesars,  and  spread  it  under  the  last  steps 
of  the  God  of  day.     This  superb  decoration  disappears  less 
swiftly  than  in  our  climate ;  for  when  you  believe  the  tints 
vanishing,  they  suddenly  illumine  some   other   point  of  the 
horizon.       Twilight    succeeds    twiHght,    and    the    charm    of 
closing  day  is  prolonged.     It  is  true  that  at  this  hour  of  rural 
repose,  the  air  no  longer  resounds  with  bucolic  song ;  you  no 
longer  hear  the  dulcia  linquimus  arva,   but  you  still  see  the 


64  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

'  great  victims  of  the  Clitumnus ' — white  bulls  and  herds  of 
half  wild  horses,  which  descend  to  the  banks  of  the  Tiber, 
and  quench  their  thirst  with  its  waters.  You  might  fancy 
yourself  transported  to  the  times  of  the  ancient  Sabines,  or  to 
the  age  of  the  Arcadian  Evander,  -n-oifxeves  Xawv,  when  the 
Tiber  was  called  Albula,  and  the  pious  Eneas  navigated  its 
unknown  stream."  ^ 

Augustus  von  Kotzebue,  the  German  dramatist,  travelled 
in  Italy  in  1804  and  1805.  His  account  is  marred  by  ignor- 
ance of  Italian  history  and  art.  It  occasionally  contains  a 
reference  to  customs  of  interest.  Kotzebue  describes  as  a 
"laudable  custom"  the  old  habit  in  Naples  of  milking  the 
cow  at  the  door  of  the  customers.  He  goes  on  :  "  Besides 
these  cows,  there  are  also  a  number  of  calves  that  wander 
about  the  city,  but  for  a  very  different  purpose.  They  belong 
to  the  monks  of  St.  Francis,  who  not  only  in  idleness  get  their 
own  bellies  filled  by  the  people,  but  also  commit  the  protection 
of  their  live-stock  to  their  good-nature.  For  that  purpose 
nothing  more  is  necessary  than  to  put  a  small  square  board 
on  the  forehead  of  the  calf  with  the  figure  of  St.  Francis 
painted  on  it.  Provided  with  this,  the  animals  walk  about 
uncontrolled,  devour  as  much  as  they  can,  and  sleep  where 
they  choose,  without  any  one  venturing  to  prevent  them." 
Kotzebue,  Uke  other  Germans,  Archenholtz  (1797)  and  Heine, 
shows  a  certain  boorish  contempt  for  Italians,  which  is 
displeasing. 

Charles  Victor  de  Bonstetten's  Voyage  en  Latiuni  was 
published  at  Geneva,  An  XT// (1805),  and  is  an  essay  on  the 
scenes  of  the  six  last  books  of  Virgil's  Eneid.  The  subject 
has  been  attempted  by  Juste  Lipse,  Cluvier,  and  others  ;  but 
Bonstetten's  imaginative  restoration  of  Latium  in  the  time  of 
the  pious  Aeneas,  if  going  outside  our  purview,  has  its  charm. 
He  believes  in  the  accuracy  of  "  the  picture  which  Virgil  gives 
of  the  Latins  of  Aeneas'  time,  of  the  vast  forests  and  clearings, 
of  the  semi-pastoral,  semi-warlike  customs,  and  of  a  cold  climate 
such  as  exists  in  our  time  in  partially  cleared  countries."  The 
general  comparison  of  Italian  landscape  with  Virgil  has  the 
defect  of  the  idea  that  poetry  expresses  by  imitation,  whereas 
it  rather  suggests  by  imagery.  The  approach  of  Aeneas 
to  Italy,  the  impressions  of  scenery  in  the  Georgics,  reproduce 
the  great  features  of  the  land  that  Virgil  knew  and  loved  for 
the  spiritual  eye  alone.  Dryden,  who  did  not  know  Italy, 
^  From  an  anonymous  translation  (1828). 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN   SPIRIT  65 

succeeded  in  eliminating  every  hint  of  the  country,  admirable 
as  his  version  is  for  its  limpid  English.  Virgilian  landscape 
would  best  be  illustrated  by  the  minor  Pompeian  paintings 
in  the  Museum  at  Naples. 

Though  severely  censured  by  Byron,  the  Classical  Tour 
(18 1 3)  of  John  Chetwood  Eustack  is  by  no  means  to  be 
despised.  Eustace  was  a  friend  of  Burke's,  and  was  with  him 
during  his  last  illness.  He  was  a  Catholic  who  had  the 
breadth  of  mind  to  associate  with  Protestants,  though  this 
offended  his  co-religionists.  Eustace's  Tour,  if  somewhat  dull, 
is  thorough  and  often  instructive.  Byron's  friend,  Hobhouse, 
afterwards  Lord  Broughton,  has  criticised  the  travels  severely, 
but  Hobhouse's  own  book  on  Italy  is  not  very  entertaining, 

§  2.  Napoleon's  Italy 

To  understand  the  conditions  of  Italy  when  Buonaparte 
invaded  it,  we  may  epitomise  its  infinite  subdivision  into  small 
states  from  Nugent's  Grand  Tour,  a  guide-book  published  in 
1778.  We  read  that  the  Pope  possessed  Rome  and  the 
Campagna,  the  province  of  Sabina,  the  Duchies  of  Spoleto, 
Castio  Urbia  and  Ferrara,  the  Marquisate  of  Ancona,  Ro- 
magna,  Bologna,  the  Duchy  of  Benevento,  and  the  county 
of  Avignon  in  France.  The  Emperor  as  Grand  Duke  of 
Tuscany  had  Florence,  Siena,  Pitigliano  and  S.  Floro,  Pon- 
tremoli,  Porto  Ferrara  and  the  islands  of  Giglio,  Gorgogna 
and  Monte  Cristo.  The  House  of  Austria  had  Milan  and 
Mantua,  Aquileia,  Glorizia,  and  Gradisca,  with  places  in  Istria. 
Don  Carlos  was  King  of  Naples,  and  had  the  ports  of  Tuscany. 
The  King  of  Sardinia  had  Savoy,  Piedmont,  Montferrat, 
Saluzzo,  and  part  of  the  Duchy  of  Milan.  The  Republic  of 
Venice  had  Istria,  Friuli,  the  Marca  Trevigiana,  Venice  and 
Padua,  Verona,  Vicenza,  Brescia,  Bergamo,  and  Crema  besides 
paft  of  Dalmatia,  &c.  The  Republic  of  Genoa  had  the  two 
Rivieras,  east  and  west,  the  kingdom  of  Corsica,  and  the 
marquisate  of  Final.  In  addition  to  this  there  were  such 
petty  states  as  the  Dukedoms  of  Parma  and  Placentia,  of 
Modena,  Reggio,  and  Mirandola,  of  Guastalla,  of  Massa,  of 
Sabionetto  ;  then  the  republics  of  Lucca  and  San  Marino  ; 
the  principalities  of  Castiglione  and  Solferino,  of  Monaco 
(under  French  protection),  of  Masserano,  and  other  fiefs  in 
Piedmont,  yielding  homage  to  the  Pope,  &c.  &c. 

To  a  country  thus  divided,  and  yet  preserving  the  pride 

E 


66  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

of  history  and  art,  keeping  the  most  pompous  of  manners 
amid  the  small  intrigues  of  these  tiny  states,  came  the  gaunt 
young  Buonaparte  with  his  following  of  superb  rapscallions, 
wild  with  revolutionary  ardour,  many  of  them  unshod,  and 
all  of  them  hungry.  The  French  force  of  35,000  men  was 
opposed  by  the  joint  armies  of  Piedmont  and  x^ustria,  amount- 
ing to  60,000  men.  Buonaparte  used  the  tactics  afterwards 
unsuccessful  in  Belgium  ;  piercing  the  centre  of  the  enemy's 
line,  he  turned  the  Piedmontese  towards  Turin,  followed  them, 
and  inflicted  a  crushing  defeat.  The  King  of  Sardinia  made 
peace  by  ceding  Savoy  and  Nice  to  the  French  :  these  pos- 
sessions had  later  on  to  be  restored,  but  were  definitively 
added  to  French  territory  by  Napoleon  III.  Buonaparte 
followed  the  Austrians,  and,  after  forcing  the  bridge  of  Lodi, 
made  his  triumphal  entry  into  Milan  (1796),  and,  after  further 
defeating  the  Austrians,  proceeded  to  Bologna,  where  he 
extorted  from  the  Pope  twenty  millions  of  francs  and  a  large 
number  of  works  of  art.  Among  the  pictures  chosen  by  the 
French  commissaries  were  not  a  few  by  Correggio,  Guido  Reni, 
Perugino,  and  Raphael.  At  a  later  date  Napoleon  obtained 
from  Venice  Tintoretto's  acknowledged  masterpiece,  the  De- 
livery of  a  Slave  by  St.  Mark,  his  Paradise,  Titian's  Assumption 
of  the  Virgin,  and,  to  crown  all,  the  four  bronze  horses  of  St. 
Mark's.  These  treasures  were  afterwards  restored  to  Italy,  but 
some  wonderful  Mantegnas  remain  in  the  Louvre  as  souvenirs 
of  what  is  to  the  art  lover  the  most  excusable  side  of  the 
Napoleonic  conquests. 

Napoleon's  letters  from  Italy  to  that  "  languorous  Creole  " 
Josephine  made  no  reference  to  the  country,  but  are  fiery 
amatory  appeals  following  on  laconic  announcements  of  victory. 
The  result  of  the  first  Italian  campaign  was  to  make  the  idea 
of  unity  a  possible  reality  in  those  Italian  minds  which  had 
only  cherished  it  as  an  impossible  ideal.  The  abstract  idea 
of  unity  had  failed  to  impress  the  Italians  sufficiently  to  lead 
to  action.  When  that  idea  had  been  actually  embodied  in  a 
human  being,  it  gradually  brought  them  to  the  endeavour 
which  culminated  in  the  crowning  of  Victor  Emmanuel.  True 
that  in  every  country  the  idea  of  liberty  needs  a  representative, 
but  Italy  could  not  herself  supply  the  prototype.  Buonaparte 
undoubtedly  went  to  Italy  with  the  desire  of  freeing  it ;  his 
wonderful  success  brought  his  ambitions  to  a  head,  and  with 
his  inherited  Italian  blood  he  was  fully  a  match  for  Italian 
intrigue.    Venice  fell  to  him  without  a  blow,  was  soon  pledged 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN   SPIRIT  67 

away  to  the  Austrians  as  a  pawn  in  the  game,  but  freed  again 
under  the  treaty  of  Presbourg.  Other  towns  which  had  hoped 
to  regain  their  ancient  RepubHcan  institutions  were  formed 
into  a  Cisalpine  Repubhc  under  the  protection  of  France,  but 
certainly  with  more  freedom  than  they  had  enjoyed  for  three 
centuries. 

The  Italians  were  again  to  learn  that  invaders  from  the 
outside,  invited  or  uninvited,  always  played  for  their  own 
hand,  and  that  Italian  unity  could  only  be  won  by  a  national 
uprising,  dependent  on  itself.  Called  away  by  the  failure  of 
other  French  generals,  and  with  the  interval  filled  in  by  his 
Egyptian  campaign,  Buonaparte  only  reappeared  in  Italy  in 
1800,  after  imitating  Hannibal's  feat  of  crossing  the  Alps  with 
an  army.  Marengo  and  a  succession  of  victories  culminated 
in  his  naming  himself  the  President  of  the  reorganised  Cis- 
alpine Republic.  In  1804,  after  his  coronation  as  French 
Emperor,  Napoleon  transformed  the  Cisalpine  Republic  into 
a  monarchy,  and  in  1805  was  crowned  with  the  iron  crown 
of  the  Lombard  princes,  in  Milan  cathedral,  as  King  of  Italy, 
with  his  stepson,  Eugene  de  Beauharnais,  as  Viceroy.  All 
this  jerry-built  empire-building  was  soon  to  be  thrown  down, 
but  popular  engravings  of  Napoleon  are  still  to  be  met  with  in 
Italy,  where  his  name  is  often  spoken  of  with  respect.^  There 
are  not  a  few  valuable  obiter  dicta  of  Napoleon  concerning 
Italy,  but  the  most  memorable  is  his  prediction  contained  in 
the  Memorial  de  Ste  Helhie :  "  Italy,  set  apart  within  natural 
limits,  separated  by  the  sea  and  by  lofty  mountains  from  the 
rest  of  Europe,  seems  called  to  be  a  great  and  powerful  nation. 
.  .  .  Unity  in  customs,  language,  and  literature  should,  in  a 
period  that  will  be  more  or  less  remote,  at  last  unite  its  peoples 
under  a  single  government.  .  .  .  Rome  is  undoubtedly  the 
capital  which  they  will  some  day  choose."^ 

We  place  Stendhal  (Henri  Beyle)  next  to  Napoleon,  not 
by  virtue  of  any  extraordinary  gift,  but  because  his  best  book 
illustrates  the  Italy  of  Napoleonic  times,  and  because  he  is  of 
interest  as  having  followed  Napoleon  in  several  campaigns 
from  the  entry  into  Milan  to  the  retreat  from  Moscow.  After 
the  Restoration  in  France  he  went  back  to  Milan,  always  dear 
to  him,  and  stayed  there  from  1814  to  1821.     He  went  into 

^  The  editor,  within  our  own  day,  has  received  money  bearing  the 
inscription  "Napoleone  Imperatore." 

2  The  letters  of  Mrs.  Starke  (iSoo)  illustrate  some  part  of  the  Napole- 
onic era  in  Italy. 


68  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

literary  society,  meeting  Manzoni  and  Monti,  and  also  Byron. 
In  Milan  he  enjoyed  the  love-affair  which  seems  indispensable 
to  every  Frenchman's  study  of  Italy.  Flis  documented  analysis 
called  De  r Amour  contains  several  old  Italian  stories  well  told. 
Finding  his  means  of  livelihood  in  default  after  his  father's 
death,  he  accepted  the  French  consulate  first  at  Trieste  and 
then  at  Civita  Vecchia.  We  may  deal  with  the  Chartreuse  de 
Panne  first,  though  it  was  one  of  the  author's  latest  works. 
Mr.  Maurice  Hewlett,  the  author  of  the  brilliant  Little  Novels 
of  Italy,  has  written  of  this  book  :  "  Za  Chartreuse  depicts  the 
Italy  of  the  eighteenth  century:  the  Italy  of  faded  simulacra, 
of  fard  and  hair  powder,  of  Cicisbei  and  curled  abbati,  of 
petits-ffialtres,  of  the  Grand  Dukes  of  Tuscany,  of  Luca 
Longhi.  For  the  comedian  of  manners  this  is  the  time  of 
times,  since  manners  seemed  all,  and  Italy  the  place  of  places, 
where  manners  have  always  been  more  than  all."  ^  Stendhal 
undoubtedly  knew  his  Italy  as  few  people  do ;  and  the 
political  intrigues  of  the  Court  of  Parma,  interwoven  with  the 
passions  excited  by  the  Duchess  of  Sanseverina  and  the 
affection  she  entertains  for  her  nephew,  form  a  plot  of  absorb- 
ing interest.  Balzac  wrote  of  the  Chartreuse  that  Stendhal 
had  produced  "  the  modern  Prince,  the  romance  which 
Machiavel  would  write,  if  exiled  from  Italy  in  the  XlXth 
century,"  and  adds  that  the  book  would  only  satisfy  "  the 
diplomats,  statesmen,  observers,  the  most  eminent  men  of  the 
world,  the  most  distinguished  artists ; — in  a  word,  the  twelve 
or  fifteen  hundred  persons  at  the  head  of  European  affairs." 
Here  is  precisely  the  dif^culty  experienced  by  most  readers  of 
the  book,  which  not  only  deals  with  court  intrigues  of  extreme 
sublety,  but  deals  with  them  in  Italy.  To  really  enter  into 
the  spirit  of  La  Chartreuse  we  have  to  know  our  Italy  very 
well,  for  the  romance  is  not  based  on  broad  human  emotions. 
It  is  curiously  compact  of  stirring  adventure  and  passion  with 
a  very  minute  analysis  of  motives.  Stendhal  prophesied  truly 
that  his  vogue  would  come  with  the  year  1880,  and  his  work 
belongs  by  anticipation  to  the  psychological  school  of  the  last 
quarter  of  the  nineteenth  century.  Without  doubt,as  a  creative 
work  of  art  it  will  always  appeal,  in  the  English  words  quoted 
at  the  end,  "  to  the  happy  few,"  but  it  may  be  added — to  the 
few  who  look  for  morbidity  as  the  crowning  excellence  of  art. 
There  is  no  moral  sense  in  what  Stendhal  writes,  but  then 
there  was  no  moral  sense  in  the  period  of  which   he  wrote. 

'  See  Introduction  to  the  translation  published  by  Mr.  Ileinemann. 


I 


ITALY   AND   THE   MODERN   SPIRIT  69 

Stendhal's  nature  was,  notwithstanding  his  love  of  adventure, 
that  of  an  ironist ;  and  the  medallion  portrait  which  David 
modelled  from  his  head  is  not  unlike  Ibsen  in  expression. 
But  he  lacks  the  profound  tenderness  of  Ibsen,  and  it  is 
herein  that  his  chief  failing  lies. 

Lacking  in  love  for  his  fellows,  Stendhal  had  a  great 
passion  for  Italy,  and,  though  of  French  birth,  suggested  for 
his  epitaph  :  Qui  Giace,  Arrigo  Beyle,  Milanese,  Fisse,  Scrisse, 
Atno.  In  18 1 9  Stendhal  pubUshed  his  Ro7ne,  Naples  et 
Florence,  and  in  1829  his  Promenades  dans  Rome ;  both  books 
being  in  the  nature  of  haphazard  notes,  and  the  latter  lacking 
the  historical  study  necessary  for  Rome  more  than  any  other 
town.  His  sense  of  character  is  often  shown  in  just  observa- 
tions ;  he  analyses  Italian  local  peculiarities  in  a  passage  which 
may  be  compared  with  Baretti's  estimate  :  "  Italy  has  seven  or 
eight  centres  of  civilisation.  The  simplest  action  is  performed 
in  an  entirely  different  way  in  Turin  and  Venice,  Milan  or 
Genoa,  Bologna  or  Florence,  Rome  or  Naples.  Venice,  not- 
withstanding the  extraordinary  misfortunes  which  must  crush 
it,  has  a  frank  gaiety,  while  Turin  is  biliously  aristocratic. 
Milanese  good  humour  is  as  well  known  as  Genoese  avarice. 
To  be  respected  at  Genoa  a  man  must  only  spend  a  quarter 
of  his  income.  .  .  .  The  Bolognese  is  full  of  fire,  passion, 
generosity,  and  sometimes  imprudence.  The  Florentines  have 
a  great  deal  of  logic,  prudence,  and  even  wit,  but  I  have  never 
seen  more  passionless  men  :  love  in  Florence  is  so  little  known 
that  lust  has  usurped  its  name.  As  for  the  Neapolitan,  he  is 
the  slave  of  the  sensation  of  the  moment.  .  .  ."  Stendhal  also 
gives  us  some  curious  instances  of  l\\&  Jettatura  or  power  of  the 
evil  eye  in  Naples. 

While  we  are  on  the  subject  of  character,  we  may  here 
insert  some  observations  of  Lord  Byron,  which  explain  the 
custom  of  the  cavaliere  servente.  He  writes  :  "  You  ask  me 
for  a  volume  of  manners,  etc.,  on  Italy.  Perhaps  I  am  in  the 
case  to  know  more  of  them  than  most  Englishmen,  because  I 
have  lived  among  the  natives,  and  in  parts  of  the  country 
where  Englishmen  never  resided  before  .  .  .  ;  but  there  are 
may  reasons  why  I  do  not  choose  to  treat  in  print  on  such  a 
subject.  I  have  lived  in  their  houses  and  in  the  hearts  of 
their  families,  sometimes  merely  as  "amico  di  casa,"  and 
sometimes  as  "  amico  di  cuore  "  of  the  Dama,  and  in  neither 
case  do  I  feel  myself  authorised  in  making  a  book  of  them. 
Their  moral  is  not  your  moral ;  th^r  life  is  not  your  life  ;  you 


•^o  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

would  not  understand  it ;  it  is  not  English,  nor  French,  nor 
German,  which  you  would  all  understand.  The  conventual 
education,  the  cavalier  servitude,  the  habits  of  thought  and 
living,  are  so  entirely  different,  and  the  difference  becomes  so 
much  more  striking  the  more  you  live  intimately  with  them, 
that  I  know  not  how  to  make  you  comprehend  a  people  who 
are  at  once  temperate  and  profligate,  serious  in  their  characters 
and  buffoons  in  their  amusements,  capable  of  impressions  and 
passions,  which  are  at  once  sudden  and  durable  (what  you  find 
in  no  other  nation),  and  who  actually  have  no  society  (what 
we  would  call  so),  as.  you  may  see  by  their  comedies;  they 
have  no  real  comedy,  not  even  in  Goldoni,  and  that  is  because 
they  have  no  society  to  draw  it  from.  Their  conversazioni 
are  not  society  at  all.  They  go  to  the  theatre  to  talk,  and  into 
company  to  hold  their  tongues.  The  women  sit  in  a  circle, 
and  the  men  gather  into  groups,  or  they  play  at  dreary  faro,  or 
"  lotto  reale  "  for  small  sums.  Their  academies  are  concerts 
like  our  own,  with  better  music  and  more  form.  Their  best 
things  are  the  carnival,  balls  and  masquerades,  when  every- 
body runs  mad  for  six  weeks.  After  their  dinners  and  suppers 
they  make  extempore  verses  and  buffoon  one  another ;  but  it 
is  in  a  humour  which  you  would  not  enter  into,  ye  of  the 
north. 

"  In  their  houses  it  is  better.  I  should  know  something  of 
the  matter,  having  had  a  pretty  general  experience  among  their 
women,  from  the  fisherman's  wife  up  to  the  Nobil  Dama,  whom 
I  serve.  Their  system  has  its  rules,  and  its  fitnesses,  and  its 
decorums,  so  as  to  be  reduced  to  a  kind  of  discipline  or  game 
at  hearts,  which  admits  few  deviations  unless  you  wish  to  lose 
it.  They  are  extremely  tenacious,  and  jealous  as  furies,  not 
permitting  their  lovers  even  to  marry  if  they  can  help  it,  and 
keeping  them  always  close  to  them  in  public  as  in  private, 
whenever  they  can.  In  short,  they  transfer  marriage  to 
adultery,  and  strike  the  7iot  out  of  that  commandment.  The 
reason  is,  that  they  marry  for  their  parents,  and  love  for  them- 
selves. They  exact  fidelity  from  a  lover  as  a  debt  of  honour, 
while  they  pay  the  husband  as  a  tradesman,  that  is,  not  at  all. 
You  hear  a  person's  character,  male  or  female,  canvassed,  not 
as  depending  on  their  conduct  to  their  husbands  or  wives,  but 
to  their  mistress  or  lover.  If  I  wrote  a  quarto,  I  don't  know 
that  I  could  do  more  than  amplify  what  I  have  here  noted. 
It  is  to  be  observed  that  while  they  do  all  this,  the  greatest 
outward  respect  is  to  be  paid  to  the  husbands,  not  only  by  the 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN    SPIRIT  71 

ladies,  but  by  their  Serventi — particularly  if  the  husband  serves 
no  one  himself  (which  is  not  often  the  case,  however)  :  so  that 
you  would  often  suppose  them  relations — the  Servente  making 
the  figure  of  one  adopted  into  the  family." 

This  sigisbeism  was  a  late  custom.  Molmenti  writes  (  Vie 
Priv'ee  a  Venise) :  "When  the  fashion,  at  the  beginning  of  the 
XVIIth  century,  required  that  domestic  affection  should 
not  be  shown  in  public,  the  cavalieri  serventi  were  invented, 
and  there  was  often  a  clause  as  to  them  in  the  marriage- 
contract."  In  some  towns,  it  may  be  added,  a  husband  who 
was  seen  even  walking  with  his  wife  in  public  was  as  like  as 
not  cut  by  his  friends,  hooted  by  the  populace,  and  challenged 
to  fight  duels.  Napoleon  when  at  Milan  endeavoured  to  dis- 
courage sigisbeism,  and  is  said  to  have  insisted  that  invitation 
cards  should  include  the  name  of  husband  and  wife ; — "  a  thing 
formerly  unknown  in  Italy,"  adds  Lady  Morgan. 

§  3.  Byron  and  Shelley 

Lord  Byron  was  twenty-eight  when  he  first  went  to  Italy 
in  18 1 6,  with  the  advantage  of  having  already  travelled  in 
Spain,  Greece,  and  Asia  Minor.  The  obvious  remark  on  his 
achievement  is  the  wonderful  celerity  with  which  he  entered 
into  the  associations,  the  history,  and  the  thoughts  of  the 
people.  The  monkish  frolics  of  Newstead,  the  dandyism  of 
London,  and  of  the  Drury  Lane  management  were  quickly 
forgotten  in  his  first  residence  at  Venice ;  although  "  for  old 
acquaintance'  sake"  the  poet's  letters  home  are  thoroughly 
English.  He  went  a  great  deal  into  Italian  society,  and  in- 
dulged in  some  intrigues  with  women  of  the  lower  classes. 
Venice  was  not  then  much  frequented  by  his  countrymen,  for 
Byron  writes  :  "  Venice  is  not  a  place  where  the  English  are 
gregarious  ;  their  pigeon-houses  are  Florence,  Naples,  Rome, 
etc."  He  studied  the  town  to  a  certain  extent,  being  most 
struck  by  "  the  black  veil  painted  over  Faliero's  picture  "  in 
the  Doge's  Palace;  he  admired  some  Giorgiones,  which  the 
later  criticism  of  Morelli  considers  of  doubtful  ascription  to 
the  Venetian  master.  At  Florence  he  stayed  but  a  day,  and 
calls  Santa  Croce,  with  its  tombs  of  Machiavelli,  Michael 
Angelo,  Galileo,  and  Alfieri,  "the  Westminster  Abbey  of 
Italy."  He  writes  from  Rome  that  he  has  been  "  to  Albano, 
its  lakes,  and  to  the  top  of  the  Alban  Mount,  and  to  Frescati, 
Aricia,  etc.  etc.,  with  an  etc.  etc.  etc.,  about  the  city  and  in 


72  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  city  :  for  all  which — vide  guide-book."  As  a  whole,  he 
adds,  "  it  beats  Greece,  Constantinople,  everything— at  least 
that  I  have  ever  seen."  For  the  Coliseum,  Pantheon,  St. 
Peter's,  and  so  forth  he  again  says  "  viae  guide-book."  He 
gives  a  rapid  sketch  of  a  public  execution  ;  "  the  tnasqued 
priests  ;  the  half-naked  executioners  ;  the  bandaged  criminals  ; 
the  black  Christ  and  his  banner ;  the  scaffold ;  the  soldiery ; 
the  slow  procession  ;  and  the  quick  rattle  and  heavy  fall  of  the 
axe  ;  the  splash  of  the  blood  and  the  ghastliness  of  the  exposed 
heads."  At  Rome  he  completed  Manfred,  and  in  June 
1 8 1 7  he  went  to  La  Mira,  near  Venice,  and  there  he  brought 
to  a  close  the  fourth  canto  of  Childe  Harold.  In  the 
winter  he  writes  Beppo,  and  in  i8i8  he  is  taking  the  rides 
on  the  Lido. 

In  the  letters  of  this  period  Byron  draws  a  Venetian  girl 
(apparently  Margarita  Cogni)  as  follows  :  " '  Benedetto  te,  e  la 
terra  che  ti  fara  ! ' — '  May  you  be  blessed,  and  the  earth  which 
you  will  tnake  !  '■ — is  it  not  pretty  ?  You  would  think  it  still 
prettier  if  you  had  heard  it,  as  I  did  two  hours  ago,  from  the 
lips  of  a  Venetian  girl,  with  large  black  eyes,  a  face  like 
Faustina's,  and  the  figure  of  a  Juno — tall  and  energetic  as  a 
Pythoness,  with  eyes  flashing,  and  her  dark  hair  streaming  in 
the  moonlight — one  of  those  women  who  may  be  made  any- 
thing." Margarita  finally  made  herself  so  obtrusive  that  the 
/iaisoH  came  to  an  end :  she  is  credited  with  this  retort  after  some 
argument  on  her  impertinence  to  a  lady — "  If  she  is  a  lady, 
I  am  a  Venetian."  The  year  1819  saw  the  first  cantos  of 
jDon  Juan,  and  also  the  beginning  of  the  relation  with  La 
Guiccioli.  Soon  after  Byron  goes  to  Bologna  and  Ferrara, 
and  thence  to  Ravenna,  where  he  stays  over  a  couple  of  years. 
There  he  used  to  ride  in  the  Pineta  (now  in  great  part  burnt 
down),  composing  his  tragedies 

"in  the  solitude 
Of  the  pine  forest,  and  the  silent  shore 
Which  bounds  Ravenna's  wood." 

Thenceforward  Lord  Byron  becomes  Italianised  in  habit, 
if  not  in  ideas.  He  joined  in  political  intrigues,  and  was 
admitted  to  a  secret  society  by  Count  Pietro  Gamba,  the 
Guiccioli's  brother.  In  182 1  the  news  of  John  Keats'  death 
in  Rome  comes;  soon  after  Byron's  friends  at  Ravenna  are 
exiled,  and  the  Guiccioli  went  to  Florence.  Shelley  stayed  a 
while  at  Ravenna  in  August  182 1,  and  Lord  Byron  presently 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN   SPIRIT  73 

took  his  departure,  travelling  to  Bologna,  when  he  met  his 
friend  Samuel  Rogers,  who  has  left  a  versified  record  of  the 
meeting.  Byron  then  revisited  Florence  and  went  on  to  Pisa, 
where  he  lived  in  "a  famous  old  feudal  palazzo,  on  the  Arno, 
large  enough  for  a  garrison,  with  dungeons  below  and  cells  in 
the  walls,  and  so  full  of  ghosts,  that  the  learned  Fletcher  (my 
valet)  has  begged  leave  to  change  his  room,  and  then  refused 
to  occupy  his  new  room,  because  there  were  more  ghosts  there 
than  in  the  other."  In  1822  he  removed  to  Genoa  after 
Shelley's  death.  Among  Byron's  latest  friends  in  Italy  were 
Lord  and  Lady  Blessington  and  Count  D'Orsay.  On  the 
1 2th  of  July  1823  he  set  sail  for  Greece,  and  was  obliged  to 
put  back  into  the  harbour  owing  to  the  horses  on  the  ship 
breaking  loose.  He  landed  for  a  few  hours,  and  going  to  the 
house  he  had  quitted  said  :  "Where  shall  we  be  in  a  year?" 
It  has  been  observed  that  "  on  the  same  day,  of  the  same 
month,  in  the  next  year,  he  was  carried  to  the  tomb  of  his 
ancestors."  Byron's  letters  do  not  contain  many  references  to 
Italy,  and  we  have  not  always  noted  where  his  various  poems 
were  composed,  because  the  most  important  of  them  are  a 
rendering  of  the  principal  features  of  Italy  taken  in  a  mass. 

The  various  stages  of  Shelley's  residence  in  Italy  are 
indicated  by  his  letters  published  by  Mrs.  Shelley,^  and  after- 
wards more  completely  edited  by  Mr.  Buxton  Forman.  The 
subject-matter  of  the  letters  is  so  closely  akin  to  that  of  the 
poems,  that  it  is  easy  to  take  them  together.  The  first  letter 
is  dated  from  Milan  in  April  18 18,  and  then  Shelley  writes 
from  Leghorn,  Lucca,  and  Florence.  He  is  next  at  Venice 
where  he  meets  Lord  Byron :  "  He  took  me  in  his  gondola 
across  the  laguna  to  a  long  sandy  island,  which  defends  Venice 
from  the  Adriatic.  When  we  disembarked,  we  found  his 
horses  waiting  for  us,  and  we  rode  along  the  sands  of  the 
sea  talking."  From  this  and  other  rides  sprang  the  poem  of 
Julian  and  Maddalo — A  Conversation,  and  the  brief  statement 
of  the  letter  becomes  the  delicate  word-picture  : 

"  I  rode  one  evening  with  Count  Maddalo 
Upon  the  bank  of  land  which  breaks  the  flow 
Of  Adria  towards  Venice  :  a  bare  strand 
Of  hillocks,  heaped  from  ever-shifting  sand, 
Matted  with  hillocks  and  amphibious  weeds, 
Such  as  from  earth's  embrace  the  salt  ooze  breeds, 

1  Mrs.   Shelley  published  an  account  of  a  journey  undertaken  long 
after  the  poet's  death,  but  it  lacks  in  interest. 


74  THE    BOOK    OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Is  this,  an  uninhabited  sea-side 

Which  the  lone  fisher,  when  his  nets  are  dried, 

Abandons  ;  and  no  other  object  breaks 

The  waste,  but  one  dwarf  tree  and  some  few  stakes 

Broken  and  unrepaired,  and  the  tide  makes 

A  narrow  space  of  level  sand  thereon, 

Where  'twas  our  wont  to  ride  when  day  went  down." 

There  follows  the  description  of  the  earth  and  sky  of  the 
"  paradise  of  exiles,  Italy,"  touched  with  the  intimate  magical 
melancholy  and  fascination  of  Venice,  the  city  of  silence  and 
decay.  To  this  same  year,  i8i8,  belongs  the  poem,  Written 
among  the  Eugafiea?i  Hills,  with  its  short  regular  lines  follow- 
ing each  other  as  softly  as  the  small  waves  lap  against  the 
sides  of  a  gondola.  Shelley  passes  by  Este  to  Ferrara  and 
Rome  in  the  .same  year,  and  some  of  his  magnificent  descrip- 
tions of  the  latter  enrich  our  pages.  These  towns  did  not 
inspire  any  lyrical  poems,  and  it  is  only  in  Naples  that  Shelley 
produces  Lities  written  in  Dejection  with  their  imagery  ex- 
pressive of  the  waters  of  the  bay  : 

"  I  see  the  deep's  untrampled  floor 
With  green  and  purple  seaweeds  strown." 

Shelley's  description  of  Pompeii  in  the  long  letter  to 
Thomas  Love  Peacock  gives  a  vivid  idea  of  Pompeii,  as  far 
as  the  excavations  had  then  gone,  and  the  same  correspondent 
receives  an  equally  interesting  letter  about  Rome.  In  1819 
came  the  Prometheus  Unbound,  of  which  Shelley  says  in  his 
preface  :  "  This  poem  was  chiefly  written  upon  the  moun- 
tainous ^  ruins  of  the  Baths  of  Caracalla,  among  the  flowery 
glades,  and  thickets  of  odiferous  blossoming  trees,  which  are 
extending  in  ever-winding  labyrinths  upon  its  immense  plat- 
forms and  dizzy  arches  suspended  in  the  air.  The  bright  blue 
sky  of  Rome,  and  the  effect  of  the  vigorous  awakening  of 
Spring  in  that  divinest  climate,  and  the  new  life  with  which 
it  drenches  the  spirits  even  to  intoxication,  were  the  inspira- 
tion of  this  drama."  The  Cenci  n\s,o  marks  this  prolific  year, 
and  Florence  elicits  the  Ode  to  the  West  Wind,  written  in  the 
Cascine.  At  Florence,  too,  Shelley  set  down  his  remarks  on 
some  statues  in  the  gallery,  among  which  are  the  Niobe,  the 
Venus  called  Anadyomene,  and  Michael  Angelo's  Bacchus. 
His  careful  endeavour  to  express  their  sculptured  attitudes 

^  The  epithet  "mountainous"  is  difficult  to  understand.  The  baths — 
now  i-xcavated — may  have  reached  a  considerable  height  when  covered 
with  earth. 


ITALY  AND  THE   MODERN   SPIRIT  75 

and  emotions  may  remind  us  that  short  of  actually  drawing 
or  copying  a  picture  or  statue,  there  is  no  better  way  of 
enjoying  it  to  the  full  than  writing  down  the  actual  impression 
it  makes  when  standing  before  it.  The  result  as  literature 
may  be  poor,  but  much  is  always  to  be  learnt  of  the  problems 
the  creator  has  met,  and  an  indelible  impression  remains  in 
the  mind.  In  1820  we  find  Shelley  at  Pisa,  and  the  poems 
for  that  year  open  triumphantly  with  the  Sensitive  Plant,  the 
song  of  the  gardens  of  Italy,  with  their  gorgeous  hues  and 
the  rich  but  somewhat  deathly  perfume  which  semi-tropical 
vegetation  has.  The  Skylark,  the  Witch  of  Atlas,  and  the 
Ode  to  Naples  follow  in  quick  succession  with  the  easy  harvest 
ripened  by  a  burning  sun,  each  poem  in  its  way  expressing 
the  beauty  or  the  dignity  of  Italian  landscape  with  vistas  of 
mountain,  olive  grove,  and  vastly  changing  skies.  At  Pisa  the 
novelty  of  the  cities  has  ended  and  the  correspondence  deals 
mostly  with  domestic  matters.  In  182 1  come  Epipsychidion 
and  Adonais,  and  Shelley  writes  a  long  letter  to  Mrs.  Shelley 
from  Ravenna,  whither  he  had  gone  to  visit  Lord  Byron. 
Some  of  his  best  lyrics  belong  to  this  period  and  the  following 
year.  In  1822  the  poet  is  again  at  Pisa  or  at  Casa  Magni, 
with  the  fellowship  of  Trelawny,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Williams,  and 
Byron.  The  closing  days  bequeath  us  the  Triumph  of  Life, 
ending  with  the  question  unanswered  : 

"  '  Then  what  is  Life?  '  I  cried." 

The  letters  of  Shelley  take  us  down  to  the  4th  July  1822, 
but  the  story  of  his  last  days  has  been  fully  narrated  by 
Trelawny.  Signor  Guido  Biagi  has  brought  together  the  docu- 
ments concerning  the  upsetting  of  Shelley's  boat  the  Ariel: 
it  is  now  admitted  that  there  was  no  foul  play,  though  possibly 
the  boat  was  run  into  during  the  squall.  Captain  Medwin  in 
the  Conversations  of  Lord  Byron  gives  an  account  of  Shelley's 
cremation  on  i8th  August  1S22  :  "On  the  occasion  of  Shelley's 
melancholy  fate  I  revisited  Pisa,  and  on  the  day  of  my  arrival 
learnt  that  Lord  Byron  was  gone  to  the  sea-shore,  to  assist 
in  performing  the  last  offices  to  his  friend.  We  came  to  a 
spot  marked  by  an  old  and  withered  trunk  of  a  fir-tree,  and 
near  it,  on  the  beach,  stood  a  solitary  hut  covered  with  reeds. 
The  situation  was  well  calculated  for  a  poet's  grave.  A  few 
weeks  before  I  had  ridden  with  him  and  Lord  Byron  to  this 
very  spot,  which  I  afterwards  visited  more  than  once.  In 
front  was  a  magnificent  extent  of  the  blue  and  windless 
Mediterranean,  with  the  Isles  of  Elba  and  Gorgona, — Lord 


76     THE  BOOK  OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

Byron's  yacht  at  anchor  in  the  offing :  on  the  other  side  an 
almost  boundless  extent  of  sandy  wilderness,  uncultivated  and 
uninhabited,  here  and  there  interspersed  in  tufts  with  under- 
wood curved  by  the  sea-breeze,  and  stunted  by  the  barren  and 
dry  nature  of  the  soil  in  which  it  grew.  At  equal  distances 
along  the  coast  stood  high  square  towers,  for  the  double  pur- 
pose of  guarding  the  coast  from  smuggling,  and  enforcing  the 
quarantine  laws.  This  view  was  bounded  by  an  immense 
extent  of  the  Italian  Alps,  which  are  here  particularly  pictures- 
que from  their  volcanic  and  manifold  appearances,  and  which 
being  composed  of  white  marble,  give  their  summits  the 
resemblance  of  snow.  As  a  foreground  to  this  picture  appeared 
as  extraordinary  a  group.  Lord  Byron  and  Trelawny  were 
seen  standing  over  the  burning  pile,  with  some  of  the  soldiers 
of  the  guard ;  and  Leigh  Hunt,^  whose  feelings  and  nerves 
could  not  carry  him  through  the  scene  of  horror,  lying  back 
in  the  carriage, — the  four  post-horses  ready  to  drop  with  the 
intensity  of  the  noonday  sun.  The  stillness  of  all  around  was 
yet  more  felt  by  the  shrill  scream  of  a  solitary  curlew,  which, 
perhaps  attracted  by  the  body,  wheeled  in  such  narrow  circles 
round  the  pile  that  it  might  have  been  struck  with  the  hand, 
and  was  so  fearless  that  it  could  not  be  driven  away." 

Byron's  letter,  of  the  27th  August  1822,  gives  us  the 
following  :  "  We  have  been  burning  the  bodies  of  Shelley  and 
Williams  on  the  sea-shore,  to  render  them  fit  for  removal  and 
regular  interment.  You  can  have  no  idea  what  an  extra- 
ordinary effect  such  a  funeral  pile  has  on  a  desolate  shore, 
with  mountains  in  the  background,  and  the  sea  before,  and 
the  singular  appearance  the  salt  and  frankincense  gave  to  the 
flame.  All  of  Shelley  was  consumed,  except  his  hearty  which 
would  not  take  the  flame,  and  is  now  preserved  in  spirits  of 
wine."  These  descriptions  may  be  too  highly  coloured  in 
some  respects,  but  they  are  substantially  correct.  Signor  Biagi 
has  gathered  the  reminiscences  of  several  of  the  surviving  wit- 
nesses of  the  incineration. 

The  strange  eerie  life  led  by  the  Byron  and  Shelley  group 
is  an  illustration  of  the  sense  of  unreality  which  comes  over 
foreigners  who  have  resided  long  in  Italy.  The  Italians  them- 
selves have  no  intention  of  burdening  their  thoughts  with  the 

^  Leigh  Hunt  has  called  in  question  some  statements  of  this  account. 
Hunt,  however,  is  not  an  entirely  trustworthy  witness.  It  may  be  noted 
that  his  Stories  from  the  Italian  Poets  (1846)  attracted  notice,  and  is  a 
capable  book. 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN   SPIRIT  77 

infinite  sorrow  or  beauty  of  the  past.  For  the  acclimatised 
stranger  the  sense  of  history  and  the  marvel  of  the  beauty 
surrounding  him  is  ever  growing.  It  is  a  healthy  thing  to  care 
for  life,  but  have  we  not  all  felt  an  increasing  indifference  to  it 
in  Italy  or  Greece  ?  Had  Byron  and  Shelley  preserved  the 
will  to  live,  the  death- insuring  expeditions  in  a  badly  balanced 
boat  and  the  almost  grotesque  excursion  to  Greece  would 
never  have  taken  place.  We  cannot  undo  the  past,  and  the 
warning  here  set  down  is  rather  for  those  bright  spirits  of  the 
future  which  may  be  tempted  to  love  Italy,  not  wisely  but 
too  well.  If  it  were  argued  that  Italy  is  a  country  which  gives 
inspiration  to  poet  and  painter,  it  is  fair  to  reply  that  Byron 
and  Shelley  have  already  taken  up  much  of  the  ground.  New 
material,  new  ways  of  seeing  or  singing,  will  no  doubt  arise, 
but  we  would  personally  look  upon  Italy  as  being  an  educa- 
tion rather  than  a  goal.  The  traveller  goes  to  Italy  in  search 
of  the  evidences  of  a  dead  civilisation,  and  in  so  far  as  that 
enables  him  to  understand  his  own  living  civilisation  better, 
so  far  will  it  be  an  aid  to  creative  art.  But  to  break  away 
from  the  national  bond  is  to  expose  ourselves  to  the  danger  of 
finding  no  firm  standing-ground  in  the  country  of  adoption ; 
and  some  of  the  last  recorded  words  of  Byron  were,  "  Why 
did  I  not  go  back  to  England  ?  " 

The  poetry  of  Byron  and  Shelley  has  done  much  to  inte- 
rest English-speaking  people  in  Italy.  Our  selection  being 
limited  to  the  appreciations  of  travellers,  extracts  from  creative 
works  must  be  excluded.  If  we  have  sometimes  regretted  the 
purple  patches  we  might  have  chosen,  they  would  have  lost 
much  by  being  detached  from  their  context.  The  grand 
historic  panorama  of  the  fourth  canto  of  Childe  Harold  is 
perhaps  the  best  poetical  commentary  on  the  historical  pageant 
of  Italy,  and  it  contains  many  beautiful  touches  of  detail,  as 
in  the  description  of  Florence — "  girt  by  her  theatre  of  hills." 
Byron's  descriptions  are  always  solidly  planted  on  the  earth, 
while  Shelley  excels  in  noting  the  subtle  changes  of  atmos- 
phere, and  catches  the  ethereal  aspect  of  nature  in  Italy. 
Critics  like  Matthew  Arnold,  accustomed  to  the  sober  har- 
monies of  English  landscape,  have  called  Shelley  unreal. 
Any  one  who  knows  Italy  at  all  will  at  once  reply  that  it  is 
an  unreal  place,  and  it  often  occurs  that  a  true  pictorial  ren- 
dering of  its  transparent  colours  and  delicate  tones  will  look 
thin  when  taken  to  England.  We  must  beware  of  critics  who 
wish  to  apply  one  standard  to  all  nature. 


78  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

It  must  be  observed  that  Byron  and  Shelley  were  the  first 
poets  who  made  Italy  the  actual  subject  of  their  work.  Chaucer 
had  adapted  or  imitated  Italian  tales,  the  Elizabethans  had 
dramatised  Italian  novels,  Milton  had  imitated  the  Italian 
manner  in  his  L Allegro  and  //  Fenseroso.  The  banker-poet 
Rogers  put  Italian  stories  into  verse,  but  Byron  and  Shelley 
were  almost  like  Italians  writing  in  English.  Well  versed  in 
the  great  literature  of  the  country  (and  the  new  cult  of 
Dante  had  arisen  with  the  idea  of  unity  that  Napoleon  had 
implanted),  they  also  knew  the  gayer  writers.  Since  Byron 
and  Shelley  our  lyrical  poetry  has  taken  an  altogether  different 
music  and  more  subtle  intention.  Compare  Campbell's  lyrics 
with  Shelley's,  contrast  Wordsworth's  didactic  style  with  the 
declamatory  force  of  Byron,  and  we  mark  the  new  spirit.  If 
Shelley  has  often  an  Elizabethan  ring,  it  is  because  Italian  art 
influenced  Shakespeare  too.  The  measured  cadences  which 
the  school  of  Dryden  and  Pope  learnt  partly  from  French 
models  were  outsung  by  the  stirring  music  of  the  newer  poetry, 
and  ever  since  Childe  Harold  or  Projuetheus  Unbound  were 
known,  all  poetry  has  followed  the  same  quest  of  music,  passion, 
and  beauty. 

A  point  that  is  to  be  insisted  on  is  the  necessity  of  study- 
ing the  two  poets  by  reference  to  Italy.  Seeking  for  some 
criticism  dealing  with  them  in  this  way,  we  have  been  dis- 
appointed to  find  that  it  has  not  even  been  attempted.  The 
present  book  in  its  general  aim  may  be  an  aid  to  considering 
such  problems  ;  certainly,  until  we  look  at  Byron  and  Shelley 
by  the  light  of  Italian  influence  we  can  arrive  at  no  conclusive 
criticism.  But  Byron's  Muse  was  to  pay  back  the  gift  be- 
stowed. In  influencing  the  work  of  Leopardi — the  first  intel- 
lectual poet  of  Italy  since  Dante — Byron  was  unconsciously 
sowing  the  seed  of  northern  ideas.  Ariosto  and  Tasso  had 
been  pre-eminently  decorative  poets,  and  the  poetry  of  philo- 
sophical reflection  begins  in  modern  Italy  with  Leopardi.  It 
was  a  triumph  for  English  letters  that,  many  years  after  we 
had  learnt  the  arts  of  inspired  song  from  Italy,  in  its  turn  the 
instructress  was  to  learn  from  us  a  new  manner  and  a  new 
subject  in  poesy. 

To  come  back  to  our  travellers.  Lady  Morgan,  whose 
Italian  letters  are  full  of  shrewd  observation,  not  without  a 
point  of  malice,  was  born  in  Ireland,  and  after  a  childhood 
spent  among  poor  actors  in  Dublin,  wrote  a  novel  called  The 
Wild  Irish  Girl,  which  made  her  famous.     She  was  later  on 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN    SPIRIT  79 

invited  to  become  an  inmate  of  the  house  of  the  Marquis  of 
Abercorn,  where  she  married  her  patron's  doctor,  who  was 
afterwards  knighted.  Lady  Morgan  used  her  time  to  great 
advantage,  and  often  gives  us  a  fresh  insight  into  the  events 
of  the  Napoleonic  invasion.  One  item  of  interest  in  her 
travels  concerns  the  Ballo  del  Papa,  or  ballet  into  which  the 
Pope  was  introduced  at  Milan  in  1797.  This  skit  was  publicly 
performed  with  much  applause,  but  Napoleon  allowed  the 
Milanese  priesthood  to  prosecute  its  unfortunate  author  when 
his  *'  views  gradually  centred  in  his  own  elevation  to  a  throne." 
Lady  Morgan's  book  on  Italy  was  published  in  182 1,  and 
called  by  Byron  "fearless  and  excellent."  She  afterwards 
wrote  a  life  of  Salvator  Rosa.  Lady  Blessington's  Idler  i?t 
Italy  commemorates  travels  of  the  year  1822-1823,  and  is  an 
extremely  entertaining  diary  with  many  details  about  the  foreign 
society  which  was  seeking  diversion  after  many  years  of  Euro- 
pean warfare.  The  beautiful  countess  was  much  appreciated 
by  her  contemporaries — among  them,  Lord  Byron,  W.  S. 
Landor,  Hallam,  and  Casimir  Delavigne — and  was  evidently 
a  talented  and  sensible  woman.  Hers  is  practically  the  last 
book  in  which  we  shall  find  society  much  spoken  of.  Un- 
happily, modern  travellers  take  the  train  and  rush  from  sight 
to  sight,  never  really  making  friends.  We  may  know  more 
about  the  periods  of  art  than  our  forefathers,  but  the  travellers 
from  Evelyn  to  Lady  Blessington  knew  the  country  and  its 
inhabitants  infinitely  better  than  we  do.  Perhaps  the  most 
interesting  encounter  of  Lady  Blessington  was  that  narrated 
as  follows  :  "  Walking  in  the  gardens  of  the  Vigna  Palatina 
yesterday  ...  we  were  surprised  by  the  arrival  of  the  Prince 
and  Princess  de  Montfort  and  their  children,  with  Madame 
Letitia  Bonaparte,  or  Madattie  Mere  as  she  is  generally  called, 
attended  by  her  chaplain,  dame  de  compagm'e,  and  others  of 
their  joint  suite.  Having  heard  that  Madame  Mere  disliked 
meeting  strangers,  we  retired  to  a  distant  part  of  the  garden  ; 
but  the  ex-King  of  Westphalia  having  recognised  my  carriage 
in  the  courtyard,  sent  to  request  us  to  join  them,  and  presented 
us  to  his  mother  and  wife.  Madame  Letitia  Bonaparte  is  tall 
and  slight,  her  figure  gently  bowed  by  age,  but,  nevertheless, 
dignified  and  graceful.  Her  face  is,  even  still,  remarkably 
handsome,  bearing  proof  of  the  accuracy  of  Canova's  admir- 
able statue  of  her ;  and  a  finer  personification  of  a  Roman 
matron  could  not  be  found  than  is  presented  by  this  Hecuba 
of  the  Imperial  Dynasty.     She  is  pale,  and  the  expression  of 


8o  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

her  countenance  is  pensive,  unless  when  occasionally  lighted 
up  by  some  observation,  when  her  dark  eye  glances  for  a 
moment  with  animation,  but  quickly  resumes  its  melancholy 
character.  .  .  .  There  was  something  highly  dramatic  in  the 
whole  scene  of  our  interview.  Here  was  the  mother  of  a 
modern  Caesar,  walking  amidst  the  ruins  of  the  palace  of  the 
ancient  ones,  lamenting  a  son  whose  fame  had  filled  the  four 
quarters  of  the  globe." 

It  is  not  easy  to  sum  up  any  general  purpose  in  the  Italian 
study  of  the  years  1 790-1825.  Goethe,  as  has  been  indicated, 
goes  with  the  intention  of  seeking  some  general  law  of  beauty. 
This  was  in  accordance  with  the  scientific  side  of  his  mind, 
one  which  almost  overbalanced  his  passionate  lyrical  impulse. 
Byron  and  Shelley  allow  themselves  to  be  completely  influ- 
enced by  their  love  of  Italy ;  subjective  as  Byron  has  been 
said  to  be,  he  gives  us  many  directly  imitative  representations 
of  nature.  Such  subjectivity  as  these  writers  have  is  in  general 
agreement  with  the  growing  cult  of  Romanticism.  This  key- 
word can  hardly  be  precisely  defined,  but  it  implicates  a  love  of 
early  architecture  and  of  mystery.  It  took  men  away  from  the 
study  of  the  figure,  from  the  pointed  conversation  of  the  salons, 
from  the  severely  ordered  composition,  to  the  solitude  of  the 
soul  amid  the  grandeurs  of  nature,  to  the  love  of  landscape 
painting,  and  frequently  to  a  negative  or  a  positive  Pantheism. 
Mme.  de  Stael  in  Corinne  still  holds  to  the  salon,  to  the 
individual  figure,  but  the  figures  are  lost  in  a  certain  mystery, 
the  conversations  are  more  ideal,  and  the  landscape  has  its 
sympathy  with  human  moods.  We  might  say  perhaps  that 
Romanticism  endowed  Nature  with  a  soul. 

Travel  in  the  early  nineteenth  century  takes  a  consolatory 
spirit,  and  Samuel  Rogers  (the  friend  of  Tennyson  as  well  as 
of  Byron)  gives  the  rationale  of  journeys  abroad  very  clearly  in 
his  Italy  :  "  Ours  is  a  nation  of  travellers.  .  .  .  None  want  an 
excuse.  If  rich,  they  go  to  enjoy ;  if  poor,  to  retrench  ;  if 
sick,  to  recover ;  if  studious,  to  learn  ;  if  learned,  to  relax  from 
their  studies.  But  whatever  they  may  say,  whatever  they  may 
believe,  they  go  for  the  most  part  on  the  same  errand  ;  nor 
will  those  who  reflect  think  that  errand  an  idle  one.  Almost 
all  men  are  over-anxious.  No  sooner  do  they  enter  the  world 
than  they  lose  that  taste  for  natural  and  simple  pleasurqg,  so 
remarkable  in  early  Hfe.  Every  hour  do  they  ask  themselves 
what  progress  they  have  made  in  the  pursuit  of  wealth  or 
honour ;  and  on  they  go  as  their  fathers  went  before  them,  till. 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN    SPIRFr  8i 

weary  and  sick  at  heart,  they  look  back  with  a  sigh  of  regret  to 
the  golden  time  of  their  childhood. 

"  Now  travel,  and  foreign  travel  more  particularly,  restores 
to  us  in  a  great  degree  what  we  have  lost.  .  .  .  The  old  cares 
are  left  clustering  round  the  old  objects,  and  at  every  step,  as 
we  proceed,  the  slightest  circumstance  amuses  and  interests. 
All  is  new  and  strange.  We  surrender  ourselves,  and  feel 
once  again  as  children.  .  .  .  The  day  we  come  to  a  place 
which  we  have  long  heard  and  read  of,  and  in  Italy  we  do  so 
continually,  is  an  era  in  our  lives ;  and  from  that  moment 
the  very  name  calls  up  a  picture.  How  delightfully  too  does 
the  knowledge  flow  in  upon  us,  and  how  fast !  .  .  .  Our 
prejudices  leave  us,  one  by  one.  Seas  and  mountains  are  no 
longer  our  boundaries.  We  learn  to  love  and  esteem  and 
admire  beyond  them.  Our  benevolence  extends  itself  with 
our  knowledge.  And  must  we  not  return  better  citizens  than 
we  went  ?  For  the  more  we  become  acquainted  with  the 
institutions  of  other  countries,  the  more  highly  must  we  value 
our  own." 

§  4.  The  Search  for  the  Picturesque 

The  number  of  travellers  now  begins  to  increase,  and  as 
this  section  lacks  in  importance,  we  shall  take  the  books  in  as 
quick  succession  as  possible.  Most  of  the  travels  are  merely 
undertaken  in  search  of  the  picturesque,  a  quest  which  pro- 
duced the  albums  of  engravings  on  which  Turner  uselessly 
lavished  so  much  of  his  talent.  Among  books  which  cannot 
be  read  with  any  patience  is  Heine's  Italienisc/ie  Reisebilder 
(1828).  Heine  tells  us  that  "there  is  nothing  so  stupid  on  the 
face  of  the  earth  as  to  read  a  book  of  travels  on  Italy — unless 
it  be  to  write  one,  and  the  only  way  in  which  its  author  can 
make  it  in  any  way  tolerable  is  to  say  as  little  as  possible  of 
Italy."  We  must  confess  that  Heine's  attitude  reminds  us  of  the 
description  in  the  French  farce  of  "  Un  tres  gros  M.  Perrichon 
et  un  tres  petit  Mont  Blanc" ;  but  we  do  not  care  to  argue  the 
point  further  with  the  witty  and  erratic  poet.  Heine  is  more 
useful  when  he  sums  up  the  best  German  writers  on  Italy  as 
William  Miiller,  Moritz,  Archenholtz,  Bartels,  Seume,  Arndt, 
Meyer,  Benkowitz,  and  Refus.^ 

The  peerless  sonnet  of  Wordsworth  "On  the  extinction  of 

1  Keysler's  four  large  volumes  (1756)  contain  a  considerable  number  of 
inscriptions  from  the  churches. 

F 


82  THE   BOOK    OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  Venetian  Republic"  was  composed  in  1802,  before  the 
poet  had  been  in  Italy.  But  we  are  apt  to  forget  that  the 
most  distinctively  English  of  our  poets,  in  subject  at  least, 
made  several  journeys  to  the  Continent.  He  knew  France 
well,  and  it  was  only  by  an  accident  that  he  did  not  throw  in 
his  lot  with,  and  share  the  fate  of,  the  Girondists  in  the 
Revolution.  He  wrote  some  of  the  best  of  his  earlier  lyrics 
in  Germany,  and  his  versified  Memorials  of  a  Tour  on  the 
Contine?ii  (1820)  took  him  as  far  as  the  Italian  Lakes  and 
Milan.  His  Memorials  of  a  Tour  in  Jtaly  commemorate  in 
verse  a  journey  made  in  1837  (March  to  August)  with  the 
companionship  of  Henry  Crabb  Robinson.  \Vordsworth  was 
then  sixty-seven,  and  being  too  old  for  very  striking  impressions, 
what  he  writes  at  first  is  interspersed  with  references  to  his 
friend  Coleridge,  to  his  beloved  Yarrow.  He  goes  from 
Acquapendente  to  Pisa,  and  Pisa  to  Rome,  where  he  confesses 
frankly  to  his  disappointment  at  finding  the  Capitolian  Hill 
and  Tarpeian  rock  less  grand  than  he  had  imagined  them. 
On  the  return  journey  he  delights  in  hearing  the  cuckoo  of  his 
native  woods  at  Laverna.  Wordsworth  shows  a  keen  sym- 
pathy for  St.  Francis,  which  gives  us  a  high  idea  of  his 
historical  insight,  while  he  rebukes  the  modern  monks  of 
Camaldoli.  His  next  visit  is  to  Vallombrosa,  and  the  fact 
that  he  seeks  the  three  great  monasteries  in  succession  makes 
it  probable  that  he  travelled  with  Forsyth's  book.  At  Florence 
he  seeks  out  the  traditionary  seat  of  Dante,  and  "for  a 
moment,  filled  that  empty  throne."  Then,  after  a  sonnet 
interpreting  a  picture  of  Raphael's,  he  translates  two  original 
sonnets  of  Michael  Angelo. 

Altogether  Wordsworth's  Italian  tour,  undistinguished  as  it 
is,  is  a  pleasing  record,  and  proves  his  ready  sympathy  with 
a  national  spirit  and  a  conception  of  art  differing  very  widely 
from  his  own.  Henry  Crabb  Robinson  says  in  a  letter : 
"  Word.sworth  repeatedly  said  of  the  journey,  '  It  is  too  late  :  I 
have  matter  for  volumes,'  he  said  once,  '  had  I  but  youth  to 
work  it  up.'  It  is  remarkable  how  in  that  admirable  poem 
'  Musings  near  Acquapendente '  (perhaps  the  most  beautiful  of 
the  memorials  of  the  Italian  tour)  meditation  predominates 
over  observation.  It  often  happened  that  objects  of  universal 
attraction  served  chiefly  to  bring  back  to  his  mind  absent 
objects  dear  to  him."  Again  (Crabb  Robinson's  Diary,  April 
27,  1830) :  "Wordsworth  is  no  hunter  after  sentimental  relics, 
lie  professes  to  be  regardless  of  places  that  have  only  an  out- 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN    SPIRIT  83 

ward  connection  with  a  great  man,  but  no  influence  on  his 
works.  Hence  he  cares  nothing  for  the  burying-place  of 
Tasso,  but  has  a  deep  interest  in  Vaucluse."  It  is  character- 
istic that  Wordsworth  found  a  joy  in  the  ItaUan  lakes  that 
reminded  him  of  the  lakes  of  his  home. 

Walter  Savage  Landor  first  went  to  Italy  in  181 7,  but 
he  did  not  apparently  meet  Shelley  there,  though  he  stayed 
some  time  at  Pisa.  In  182 1  ^  he  moved  to  Florence  with  his 
family,  and  worked  for  some  eight  years  at  his  Imaginary 
Conversations^  in  which  historical  characters  of  every  period 
discuss  life  and  literature.  This  book  made  him  famous 
among  literary  people,  and  any  travellers  visiting  Florence 
made  sure  of  seeing  him,  among  them  William  Hazlitt  (who 
himself  wrote  on  Italy). '^  It  was  when  he  had  returned  to 
England  that  Landor  published  the  Pentameron  (1837),  of 
which  Mr.  Sidney  Colvin  has  said  that  the  author  "  loved  and 
understood  Boccaccio  through  and  through;  and  if  he  over- 
estimated that  prolific  and  amiable  genius  in  comparison  with 
other  and  greater  men,  it  was  an  error  which  for  the  present 
purpose  was  almost  an  advantage.  Nothing  can  be  pleasanter 
than  the  intercourse  of  the  two  friendly  poets  as  Landor  had 
imagined  it."  Nevertheless  all  Landor's  efforts  result  in  books 
drawn  from  books,  which  means  life  at  two  removes.  Landor, 
to  our  thinking,  remained  peculiarly  English,  and  his  render- 
ing of  Italy  is  always  reminiscent  of  Shakespeare.  It  may  be 
noted  that  he  spent  the  last  six  years  of  his  life  in  Italy. 

Hans  Andersen  crossed  the  Simplon  in  September  1833 
on  his  way  to  Rome,  and  his  journey  included  Naples,  Capri 
and  Pompeii,  Florence,  Siena,  Bologna,  and  Ferrara.  In  one 
of  the  few  letters  preserved  he  shows  his  northern  mind  by 
saying :  "  Vesuvius  is  a  flaming  ygdrasil."  His  epitome  of 
Italy  is:  "This  is  the  home  of  phantasy,  the  north  that  of 
reason."  The  romance  called  the  Improvisaiore,  which  he 
afterwards  published,  abounds  in  charming  touches  of  character 
and  in  richly-coloured  descriptions.  The  book  fails,  owing  to 
the  poor  delineation  of  the  central  figure  :  we  are  more  inte- 
rested  in   the    details   than    in   the    hero.      The   suggestive 

^  Among  books  of  this  period  may  be  cited  Mrs.  Eaton's  Letters  on 
Rome  (1820),  and  Gell's  Roman  Topotjraphy  (1824). 

-  Emerson,  who  was  in  Italy  in  1S33,  describes  Landor  as  "  living  in 
a  cloud  of  pictures  in  his  Villa  Gherardesca.  .  .  .  He  prefers  John  of 
Bologna  to  Michel  Angelo ;  in  painting,  Raffaelle  ;  and  shares  the  grow- 
ing taste  for  Ferugino  and  the  early  masters."  Another  American  in 
Italy  was  Fenimore  Cooper  ^7 ravels,  1833). 


84  THE    BOOK    OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

picturesqueness  of  his  descriptions  makes  it  regrettable  that 
he  was  not  content  to  leave  them  without  any  framework 
of  romance.  Take  this  passage  describing  the  festa  of  Gen- 
zano — a  child  is  the  presumed  narrator,  but  it  is  a  poet 
speaking  : 

"  How  shall  I  describe  the  first  glance  into  the  street — 
that  bright  picture  as  I  then  saw  it  ?  The  entire,  long,  gently 
ascending  street  was  covered  over  with  flowers ;  the  ground- 
colour was  blue :  it  looked  as  if  they  had  robbed  all  the 
gardens,  all  the  fields,  to  collect  flowers  enough  of  the  same 
colour  to  cover  the  street ;  over  these  lay  in  long  stripes,  green, 
composed  of  leaves,  alternately  with  rose-colour ;  at  some  dis- 
tance to  this  was  a  similar  stripe,  and  between  this  a  layer  of 
dark-red  flowers,  so  as  to  form,  as  it  were,  a  broad  border  to 
the  whole  carpet.  The  middle  of  this  represented  stars  and 
suns,  which  were  formed  by  a  close  mass  of  yellow,  round  and 
star-like  flowers  ;  more  labour  still  had  been  spent  upon  the 
formation  of  names — here  flower  was  laid  upon  flower,  leaf 
upon  leaf.  The  whole  was  a  living  flower-carpet,  a  mosaic 
floor,  richer  in  pomp  of  colouring  than  anything  which  Pompeii 
can  show.  Not  a  breath  of  air  stirred — the  flowers  lay  im- 
movable, as  if  they  were  heavy,  firmly-set  precious  stones. 
From  all  windows  were  hung  upon  the  walls  large  carpets, 
worked  in  leaves  and  flowers,  representing  holy  pictures.  .  .  . 
The  sun  burnt  hotly,  all  the  bells  rang,  and  the  procession 
moved  along  the  beautiful  flower-carpet ;  the  most  charming 
music  and  singing  announced  its  approach.  Choristers  swung 
the  censer  before  the  Host,  the  most  beautiful  girls  of  the 
country  followed,  with  garlands  of  flowers  in  their  hands,  and 
poor  children,  with  wings  to  their  naked  shoulders,  sang 
hymns,  as  of  angels,  whilst  awaiting  the  arrival  of  the  pro- 
cession at  the  high  altar.  Young  fellows  wore  fluttering 
ribands  around  their  pointed  hats,  upon  which  a  picture  of 
the  Madonna  was  fastened  ;  silver  and  gold  rings  hung  to  a 
chain  around  their  necks,  and  handsome,  bright-coloured  scarfs 
looked  splendidly  upon  their  black  velvet  jackets.  The  girls 
of  Albano  and  Frascati  came,  with  their  thin  veils  elegantly 
thrown  over  their  black  plaited  hair,  in  which  was  stuck  the 
silver  arrow ;  those  from  Velletri,  on  the  contrary,  w^ore  gar- 
lands around  their  hair,  and  the  smart  neckerchief,  fastened  so 
low  down  in  the  dress  as  to  leave  visible  the  beautiful  shoulder 
and  the  round  bosom.  From  Abruzzi,  from  the  Marches,  and 
from    every   other   neighbouring    district,    came   all   in   their 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN   SPIRIT  85 

peculiar  national  costume,  and  produced  altogether  the  most 
brilliant  effect."  1 

Here  again  is  a  little  prose-poem  of  Venice,  in  an  entirely 
different  key  :  "  I  stepped  down  into  the  black  gondola,  and 
sailed  up  into  the  dead  street,  where  everything  was  water, 
not  a  foot-breadth  upon  which  to  walk.  Large  buildings  stood 
with  open  doors,  and  with  steps  down  to  the  water ;  the  water 
ran  into  the  great  doorways,  like  a  canal ;  and  the  palace-court 
itself  seemed  only  a  four-cornered  well,  into  which  people 
could  row,  but  scarcely  turn  the  gondola.  The  water  had  left 
its  greenish  slime  upon  the  walls  :  the  great  marble  palaces 
seemed  as  if  sinking  together  :  in  the  broad  windows,  rough 
boards  were  nailed  up  to  the  gilded,  half-decayed  beams.  The 
proud  giant-body  seemed  to  be  falling  away  piecemeal ;  the 
whole  had  an  air  of  depression  about  it.  The  ringing  of  the 
bells  ceased,  not  a  sound,  except  the  splash  of  the  oars  in  the 
water,  was  to  be  heard,  and  I  saw  not  a  human  being.  The 
magnificent  Venice  lay  like  a  dead  swan  upon  the  waves."  ^ 

The  romances  of  Georges  Sand  are  almost  out  of  our 
survey.  Her  Lettres  d^un  Voyageur  are  chiefly  devoted  to  her 
own  personality ;  and  the  colossal  egoism  of  the  school  of  the 
literature  she  belongs  to  is  seen  in  the  fact  that  her  paltry 
amours  and  reconciliations  with  Alfred  de  Musset  blinded  her 
to  the  beauty  of  Venice.  Her  novels  give  us  hardly  one  life- 
like idea  of  Italy.  The  way  in  which  most  of  Georges  Sand's 
work  was  done  at  Venice — a  hurried  scramble  over  innumer- 
able sheets  of  paper  to  pay  for  the  gambling  debts  or  the 
support  of  her  Alfred — may  be  responsible  for  this.  The  best 
of  her  work  is  probably  to  be  found  in  studies  of  French  life 
such  as  Francois  k  Champt,  written  when  she  returned  to  a 
saner  frame  of  mind.  On  Alfred  de  Musset  Italy  had  a 
more  lasting  influence,  and  in  his  drama  entitled  Lorenzaccto, 
drawing  the  character  of  Lorenzo,  the  murderer  of  his  cousin 
Alexander  di  Medici,  the  French  poet  achieved  a  striking 
picture  of  the  turbid  passion  and  vicious  ambition  of  the 
Renaissance.  De  Musset  also  wrote  one  of  the  most  musical 
lyrics  in  the  French  language  ;  it  is  dated  Venice,  1834,  and 
often  as  it  has  been  quoted,  it  may  yet  be  quoted  again  : 


^  Translated  by  Mary  Howitt. 

2  Felix  Bartholdy  Mendelssohn,  in  his  letters  beginning  in  1830, 
describes  Venice  and  other  towns  in  the  picturesque  way.  Wagner's 
letters  from  Venice  are  entirely  personal. 


86  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVET. 


CHANSON. 

A  Saint-Blaise,  a  la  Zuecca,' 
Vous  etiez,  vous  etiez  bien  aise, 

A  Saint-Blaise. 
A  Saint- Blaise,  a  la  Zuecca 

Nous  etions  bien  la. 

Mais  de  vous  en  souvenir 

Prendrez-vous  la  peine  ? 
Mais  de  vous  en  souvenir 

Et  d'y  revenir  ? 

A  Saint-Blaise,  a  la  Zuecca, 
Dans  les  pres  fleuris  cueiller  la  verveine, 
A  Saint-Blaise,  a  la  Zuecca, 
Vivre  et  mourir  la  ! 

Lord  Macaulay  was  in  Italy  in  1838-39,  and  records  his 
impressions  in  the  diary  published  in  Trevelyan's  Life.  His 
remarks  are  too  much  in  the  nature  of  jottings  to  assist  us, 
but  at  Rome  he  makes  an  admirable  comparison  (in  a  letter 
to  a  friend)  :  "  Imagine  what  England  would  be  if  all  the 
members  of  Parliament,  the  Ministers,  the  Judges,  the  Am- 
bassadors, the  Governors  of  Colonies,  the  very  Commander- 
in-Chief  and  Lords  of  the  Admiralty  were,  without  one 
exception,  bishops  or  priests  ;  and  if  the  highest  post  open  to 
the  noblest,  wealthiest,  and  most  ambitious  layman  were  a 
Lordship  of  the  Bedchamber  !  "  The  unique  character  of  the 
Government  of  the  former  papal  states  could  not  be  better 
put.  Macaulay's  Lays  of  Anciefit  Rome  were  written  after  this 
journey. 

Disraeli's  novel,  Co7ttari7ii  F/ei>n?ig,  published  in  1845, 
gives  us  occasional  glimpses  of  Italy.  The  descriptive  passages 
are  not  of  much  value,  but  even  discounting  its  obvious 
exaggeration,  we  cannot  help  being  grateful  for  such  a  thought 
as  this  :  "  In  Florence  the  monuments  are  not  only  of  great 
men,  but  of  the  greatest.  You  do  not  gaze  upon  the  tomb  of 
an  author  who  is  merely  a  great  master  of  composition,  but  of 
one  who  formed  the  language.  The  illustrious  astronomer  is 
not  the  discoverer  of  a  planet,  but  the  revealer  of  the  whole 
celestial  machinery.  The  artist  and  the  politician  are  not 
merely  the  first  sculptors  and  statesmen  of  their  time,  but  the 
inventors  of  the  very  art  and  the  very  craft  in  which   they 

1  The  Giudecca. 


ITALY   AND   THE   MODERN   SPIRIT  87 

excelled."  Disraeli  also  shows  an  attentive  study  of  the 
different  schools  of  art  in  the  following  :  "The  contemplation 
of  the  Venetian  school  had  developed  in  me  a  latent  love  of 
gorgeous  eloquence,  dazzling  incident,  brilliant  expression, 
and  voluptuous  sentiment.  These  brought  their  attendant 
imperfections — exaggeration,  effeminacy,  the  obtrusion  of  art, 
the  painful  want  of  nature.  The  severe  simplicity  of  the 
Tuscan  masters  chastened  my  mind.  I  mused  over  a  great 
effect  produced  almost  by  a  single  mean.  The  picture  that 
fixed  my  attention  by  a  single  group,  illustrating  a  single 
passion,  was  a  fine  and  profitable  study.  I  felt  the  power  of 
Nature  delineated  by  a  great  master,  and  how  far  from 
necessary  to  enforce  her  influence  were  the  splendid  accessories 
with  which  my  meditated  compositions  would  rather  have 
encumbered  than  adorned  her."  The  general  distinction 
is  well  indicated,  and  we  need  not  follow  Disraeli  when  he 
proceeds  to  find  the  perfect  union  of  Venice  and  Florence  in 
the  art  of  Rome. 

Lamartine's  travels  in  Italy  were  preceded  by  a  love-story 
in  France,  punctuated  by  another  at  Naples,  and  followed  by 
a  third  in  Savoy.  His  writings  on  Dante  had  much  influence 
in  France,  and  in  various  works,  as  in  the  incomplete 
Memoires,  he  speaks  of  the  country.  It  is  in  Graziella  (written 
in  1847,  many  years  after  the  journey)  that  we  have  his  most 
living  contribution  to  literature  dealing  with  Italy.  In  this 
pretty  story  he  narrates,  with  almost  autobiographical  accuracy, 
his  innocent  devotion  to  the  pretty  Neapolitan  cigarette-maker 
(in  the  romance  a  coral  worker),  who  finally  dies  of  a  broken 
heart  when  he  rides  away.  The  study  of  the  fisherfolk  of 
Sta.  Lucia,  the  description  of  scenery,  and  especially  of  the 
storm  on  the  bay  of  Naples,  make  the  book  a  complete 
success.  Lamartine  enters  into  the  Italian  spirit  far  better  than 
most  of  his  countrymen,  who  generally  have  a  scarcely  veiled 
contempt  for  the  race.  The  Italians  have  their  own  ideas 
about  French  manners,  and  Lamartine  was  not  always  happy 
in  his  loves  in  Italy.  He  honestly  tells  us  that  when  he 
expressed  his  passion  for  a  lady  called  Bianca  Boni  while  she 
was  painting  his  portrait,  she  effaced  the  likeness  and,  returning 
him  his  money,  shut  her  doors  on  him.  It  is  refreshing  to 
read  that  Lamartine  made  a  proper  apology  ;  but  this  poet 
and  republican,  with  his  national  failing  where  pretty  women 
are   concerned,    always   remained  true   to  his  love  of  Italy, 


88  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

and   wrote  years  after,  "  Depuis    ce    temps,    ITtalie    fut  ma 
patrie  ou  du  moins  demeura  pour  moi  la  patrie  de  I'amour." 

Charles  Dickens'  Pictures  from  Italy  (first  published  in 
the  Daily  News,  from  January  to  March  1846,  under  the  title 
"Travelling  Letters  Written  on  the  Road),  need  but  the 
briefest  comment.  The  author  of  David  Copperficld,  with  his 
quick  obser\ation  of  external  features  and  his  ready  sense  of 
character,  is  among  the  travellers  from  whom  we  shall  borrow 
several  descriptions.  Contrary  to  expectation,  he  is  perfectly 
in  harmony  with  his  surroundings,  and  everything  he  says  is 
worthy  of  our  most  typically  English  humorist  since  the  time 
of  Shakespeare.  Thackeray's  references  to  Italy  are  un- 
fortunately few  and  far  between.  In  the  Neivconies  he  tells  us 
that  in  the  foreign  society  of  Rome,  "  thrown  together  every 
day  and  night  after  night ;  flocking  to  the  same  picture- 
galleries,  statue-galleries,  Pincian  drives,  and  church  functions, 
the  English  colonists  at  Rome  perforce  become  intimate, 
and  in  many  cases  friendly.  They  have  an  English  library 
where  the  various  meets  for  the  week  are  placarded.  On 
such  a  day  the  Vatican  gallaries  are  open  ;  the  next  is  the 
feast  of  Saint  So-and-so ;  on  Wednesday  there  will  be  music 
and  vespers  at  the  Sistine  Chapel ;  on  Thursday  the  Pope 
will  bless  the  animals — sheep,  horses,  and  what  not :  and 
flocks  of  English  accordingly  rush  to  witness  the  benediction 
of  droves  of  donkeys.  In  a  word,  the  ancient  city  of  the 
Caesars,  the  august  fanes  of  the  Popes,  with  their  splendour 
and  ceremony,  are  all  mapped  out  and  arranged  for  English 
diversion." 

Edward  Lear,  the  author  of  the  famous  rhymes  for 
children,  contributes  several  handsomely  illustrated  books  of 
auto-lithographs:  Views  in  A'ome  and  Its  E?ivirons,  1841  ; 
Excursions  in  Italy,  1846  (partly  in  the  Abruzzi  ^) ;  journals 
of  a  Landscape  Painter  in  Southern  Calabria,  1852.  The  text 
of  the  last  two  books  is  a  delightfully  personal  account  of  the 
hospitality  shown  to  the  painter,  and  his  journal  often  gives  us 
hints  as  to  out-of-the-way  places.  The  drawings  (within  the 
limitations  of  the  lithographic  rendering)  are  often  of  great 
beauty.  We  may  here  refer  to  other  books  on  the  South  of 
Italy.     Swinburne  wrote  the  pioneer  book  in  his  Travels  in 

'  The  Abriizzi  was  thought  to  contain  nothing  but  bears  and  robbers, 
but  the  inhabitants  smilingly  denied  the  impeachment.  The  people  of  the 
district  still,  we  believe,  preserve  their  old  costumes,  and  a  traveller  would 
be  repaid  by  re-exploring  this  country. 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN    SPIRIT  89 

the  2'wo  Sicilies  {iTT]-i1^o)  ;  and  the  handsomely  illustrated 
tomes  ofiSAiNT  Non  (1781)  have  a  careful  letterpress.  Sir 
R.  C.  HoARE  did  for  several  of  the  southern  cities  what 
Eustace  had  done  for  the  north  and  centre  in  a  continuation 
of  the  "classical  tour."  Keppel  Craven  published  views, 
and  C.  Tait  Ramage  (1828)  a  personal  diary.  Those,  how- 
ever, who  are  desirous  of  studying  the  south  will  find  every 
assistance  in  the  scholarly  books  of  Francjois  Lenormant, 
French  Egyptologist.  His  A  Travers  VApulie  et  la  Lucanie 
(1883)  and  Za  Grande  Grece  (1881-84)  weave  together  the 
scattered  fragments  of  the  Greek  historians,  and  show  us  the 
importance  (long  before  the  great  days  of  Athens)  of  the  cities 
of  Sybaris,  Crotona,  and  Tarentum.  Lenormant  also  is  well 
informed  on  the  Byzantine  and  Norman  influences  in  the 
south.  The  southern  portion  of  Italy,  together  with  Sicily, 
opens  up  an  entirely  different  series  of  historical  studies. 
Goethe  said  that  Sicily  was  the  key  to  all  Italy,  but  in  his  day 
no  excavations  had  been  made  in  Greece.  Magna  Grsecia 
is  to  be  studied  in  conjunction  with  Greece,  and  an  account 
based  on  that  of  Lenormant  would  fill  an  important  gap  for 
English  readers  if  a  writer  with  the  special  qualifications  came 
forward. 

§  5.    The  Cult  of  Medievalism  and  the  Primitives 

It  is  curious  to  observe  how  the  earliest  manifestations  of 
Italian  art  are  those  which  have  taken  longest  to  discover. 
Our  travellers  have  been  like  an  excavator  who  works  down 
from  the  actual  soil  through  successive  architectural  deposits 
till  the  earliest  remains  of  human  habitation  are  laid  bare. 
Every  new  discovery  has  been  exalted  at  the  expense  of  the 
prior  ones,  and  the  schools  which  swore  by  Gothic  architecture 
could  rarely  agree  with  any  Italian  art  later  than  Botticelli, 
who  also  had  his  special  votaries.  It  is  difficult  to  trace  to 
its  source  what  has  been  called  the  Gothic  revival.  Romanti- 
cism had  two  sides,  one  of  the  nature-cult,  the  other  of  a 
religious  reaction.  Chateaubriand  is  probably  the  first  ex- 
ponent of  this  reaction,  but  he  placed  his  faith  in  primitive 
Christianity;  Sir  Walter  Scott  did  not  concern  himself  with 
Italy.  The  first  important  manifestation  of  a  love  of  Christian 
art  is  perhaps  to  be  traced  in  the  work  of  Friedrich  von 
Schlegel.  He  made  his  acquaintance  with  the  primitive 
pictures  taken  to  the  Louvre,  where  he  saw  them  in  the  years 


90  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

1802-1S04,  and  while  Lanzi  in  1796  had  merely  followed 
tradition  in  calling  Giotto  the  father  of  Italian  art,  Schlegel 
pointed  out  his  special  qualities.  Schlegel  likewise  studied 
Gothic  architecture  in  Belgium,  France,  and  on  the  Rhine, 
1804-5;  in  his  search  he  was  re-discovering  the  idealism 
which  in  Italy  was  probably  of  Teutonic  origin.  Like  his 
brother  Augustus  (the  writer  on  dramatic  art)  he  possessed 
a  profound  historical  knowledge,  and  while  he  had  studied 
the  Teutonic  Saga-period,  he  was  also  able  to  differentiate 
the  Christian  and  classic  periods  in  Italy  with  more  clearness 
than  had  hitherto  been  done.  When  Schlegel  went  to  Rome 
he  was  fully  prepared  to  support  the  Overbeck  School,  and 
he  wrote  enthusiastically  of  "  the  German  paintings  exhibited 
in  Rome  "  ( 1 8 1 9).  Overbeck,  who  was  converted  to  Romanism 
in  1 813,  had  made  his  effort  against  the  pseudo-classic 
influence  of  David  in  Germany,  but  his  school  was  one  which 
used  the  technique  of  Raphael  and  the  religious  spirit  of  the 
earlier  painters.  The  Overbeck  movement  must  not  be 
compared  with  that  of  our  Pre-Raphaelites,  which  was  in 
general  the  search  for  a  primitive  technique.  We  do  not 
of  course  claim  Schlegel  as  the  only  originator  of  a  love  of 
Christian  art ;  hints  of  the  new  spirit  are  probably  to  be 
found  in  other  books.  But  the  brothers  Schlegel  had  a 
considerable  following  in  Paris,  Vienna,  and  Rome  as  well 
as  in  (jermany.  Hope's  Historical  Essay  on  Architecture^ 
comes  rather  later,  and  Kugler's  History  of  Painting  was  not 
published  till  the  'thirties.  Rio's  Christian  Art,  often  quoted 
by  Ruskin,  was  begun  in  1836. 

One  of  the  most  important  exponents  of  medisevalism  was 
Lord  Lindsay,  who,  curiously  enough,  was  able  to  bring  his 
learning  to  the  support  of  his  father's  successful  claim  to  the 
ancient  Earldom  of  Crawford.  Lord  Lindsay's  History  of 
Christian  Art  was  published  in  1847.  This  delicately  written 
and  admirably  documented  work  linked  on  the  primitive 
schools  to  what  the  author  called  Christian  mythology,  or, 
in  our  more  modern  phrase.  Catholic  folklore.  The  old  tales, 
such  as  the  Seven  Sleepers  of  Ephesus,  and  the  traditions 
which  had  grown  round  the  lives  of  the  Saints,  were  brought  to 
the  illustration  of  the  art  of  Giotto  and  the  schools  succeeding 
him.  Lord  Lindsay  defined  the  influence  of  Byzantine  archi- 
tecture more  clearly  than  had  been  done,  and  his  classification 

1  Vasari,  of  course,  had  long  before  spoken  of  Lombard  and  Gothic 
architecture  (Introduction  to  the  Lives). 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN   SPIRIT  91 

of  painting  like  that  of  the  Sienese  school  was  a  step  forward. 
His  book  was  frequently  mentioned  by  Ruskin,  whom  we 
may  now  discuss. 

John  Ruskin's  first  journey  in  Italy  was  in  1835  (in  his 
sixteenth  year),  when  he  went  to  Venice  and  Verona.  In 
1840  he  went  to  Rome  and  Naples,  and  some  traces  of  his 
visit  are  shown  in  Modern  Faifiters  (not  concluded  till  some 
years  later),  but  that  book  was  based  on  his  admiration  of 

Turner  and  chiefly  related  to  the  question  of  beauty  in  land- 
scape. It  was  at  Paris  in  1844  that  Ruskin  really  began  to 
study  Itahan  art  in  Titian,  Bellini,  and  Perugino.  "  He 
found,"  as  Mr.  CoUingwood,  his  biographer,  says,  "that  his 
foes,  Caspar  Poussin  and  Canaletto,  and  the  Dutch  land- 
scapists,  were  not  the  real  old  masters ;  that  there  had  been 
a  great  age  of  art  before  the  era  of  Vandyck  and  Rubens — 
even  before  Michelangelo  and  Raphael."  This  opinion, 
showing  most  plainly  the  taste  of  his  contemporaries, 
motived  a  journey  to  Lucca,  to  Pisa,  and  Florence  in  1845, 
and  also  to  Venice;  thus  Ruskin  began  to  have  an  insight 
into  twelfth -century  architecture,  the  painting  of  Giotto  and 
Carpaccio,  and  also  a  new  fervour  for  the  then  misunderstood 
Tintoretto.  One  result  of  this  journey  was  that  on  his  return 
to  England  Ruskin  wrote  to  the  Times  suggesting  that  no 
more  Guido  or  Rubens  pictures  should  be  bought  for  the 
National  Gallery,  while  it  lacked  even  single  specimens  of 
Fra  Angelico  or  Ghirlandajo  and  had  no  important  Bellini 
or  Perugino.  His  ideal  of  a  representative  collection  was 
realised  years  after.  The  Seven  Lamps  of  Architecture  was 
written  and  illustrated  in  1846  and  1848,  and  The  Stones  oj 

Venice  ixoTCv  1849  to  1853.  His  later  books  contained  many 
references  to  Italy,  and  such  studies  as  Mornings  in  Florence 
and  St.  Mark's  Rest  are  entirely  devoted  to  Italian  subjects. 
Ruskin  hardly  comes  into  our  category  of  travellers  who  can 
be  selected  from  :  to  take  any  detached  passages  from  a  book 
like  Stones  of  Venice  would  be  to  give  a  very  unfair  idea  of  it. 
Furthermore,  while  the  general  influence  of  Ruskin  has  been 
in  some  ways  admirable,  there  are  too  many  debatable  points 
in  his  teaching.  His  technical  books  have  not  produced  one 
student  of  merit,  and  his  instructions  in  design  are  painfully 
amateurish.  He  unfortunately  upheld  the  view  that  the 
spiritual  force  of  art  is  more  admirable  than  the  craftsmanship 
of  it.  This  implies  a  divorce  between  the  two,  whereas  in 
reality  it  is  impossible  to  say  where  craftsmanship  ends  and 


92  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

inspiration  begins.  The  greatest  artists  in  conception  have 
invariably  been  the  greatest  painters  or  sculptors  in  execution. 
The  Primitives  painted  as  well  as  they  knew  how ;  their 
technique  was  that  best  suited  to  religious  decoration.  Giotto 
by  abandoning  the  "  Greek  "  manner  shows  that  he  would  have 
taken  every  advantage  of  the  new  style  had  he  been  born 
later.  Not  one  of  the  Primitives  admitted  a  deliberate 
archaism.  We  know  that  such  an  archaism  was  sometimes 
sought  in  decadent  Greece,  and  there  is  no  surer  sign  of 
decadence  than  the  archaistic  tendency.  We  may  have  a 
natural  tendency  towards  the  Gothic  or  Renaissance  spirit, 
but  for  a  modern  man  to  endeavour  to  live  the  life  of  x\rnold 
of  Brescia,  Dante,  Fra.  Angelico,  or  Leonardo  is  to  commit 
mental  suicide. 

The  prime  Ruskinian  offence  is  the  prejudicial  selection  of 
special  eras  or  pictures  out  of  the  past.  \Ve  cannot  make  any 
truce  with  this  preciosity  of  finding  special  meanings  or  beauties 
in  isolated  examples.  In  the  Mortiings  in  Florence  extra- 
ordinary praise  is  given  to  the  so-called  Giottos  in  Santa  Croce, 
which  are  paraded  as  being  the  final  word  of  primitive  art. 
Analyse  the  beautiful  prose  of  the  eloquent  passage  about  the 
Tower  of  Giotto,  and  it  will  be  seen  how  laughable  is  the 
claim  that  the  Campanile  "is  the  last  building  raised  on  the 
earth  by  the  descendants  of  the  workmen  taught  by  Dsdalus  "  ; 
how  wildly  vague  the  statement  that  there  is  no  Christian  work 
so  perfect.  As  another  instance  of  Ruskin's  rash  generalisa- 
tion, take  his  statement  that  "in  the  five  cusped  arches  of 
Niccolb's  pulpit  you  see  the  first  Gothic  Christian  architecture, 
.  .  .  the  change,  in  a  word,  for  all  Europe,  from  the  Par- 
thenon to  Amiens  Cathedral."  Leader  Scott  observes,  "  this 
is  very  poetic,  but  it  will  not  bear  analysis."  To  take  another 
among  many  of  Ruskin's  hyperboles,  he  writes  of  the  Doge's 
Palace  :  "  It  would  be  impossible,  I  believe,  to  invent  a  more 
magnificent  arrangement  of  all  that  is  in  building  most  beauti- 
ful and  most  fair."  Yet  another  is  the  statement  that  the  Bardi 
chapel  in  Santa  Croce  is  "  the  most  interesting  and  perfect 
little  Gothic  chapel  in  all  Italy."  Ruskin  too  often  has  this 
way  of  picking  out  a  specimen  and  praising  it  extravagantly. 
Unfortunately  we  cannot  understand  the  superlative  till  we 
have  valued  the  comparative.  The  experience  of  all  sane 
love  of  art  is  that  we  begin  by  admiring  the  minor  poets,  the 
minor  painters,  and  only  reach  the  supreme  manifestations 
after  years  of  search.    When  we  have  attained  to  a  sense  of 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN    SPIRTr  93 

the  truly  great,  we  are  still  compelled  to  go  back  to  the  lesser 
lights  from  time  to  time.  Let  any  man  try  to  begin  the  study 
of  literature  with  a  few  selected  classics  and  he  will  learn  the 
impossibility  of  ecclecticism  as  a  working  philosophy.  The 
fault  of  Ruskin  and  all  his  school  is  that  they  look  upon  art 
as  something  abiding,  whereas  it  has  only  a  relative  value  as 
being  in  or  out  of  harmony  with  a  humanity  that  is  always 
changing.^  This  or  that  work  in  Italy  is  not  and  cannot  he 
the  last  word ;  it  is  only  in  the  complete  art  and  inspiration 
that  we  find  a  permanent  legacy  and  achievement. 

It  were  unfair  and  ungracious  to  deny  the  great  beauty  of 
Ruskin's  style,  the  sincerity  of  his  fervour  for  things  Italian, 
the  value  of  some  of  his  individual  appreciations.    His  general 
results  are  not  easy  to  define.     He  was  probably  unconsciously 
influenced  by  the  Italian  spirit,  which  we  would  define  as  a 
Catholicism  transcending  religious  ceremonial.     Personally  he 
held  to  Puritanism  without  its  Protestant  dogma,  but  much  of  his 
social  work  depended  on  his  view  of  redeeming  human  nature 
by  beauty.     The  excess  of  English  utilitarianism,  the  northern 
spirit  of  competition,  had  driven  other  sensitive  thinkers  to 
Italian  ideas.    Newman,  steeping  his  mind  in  CathoHc  theology, 
could  not  fail  to  respond  finally  to  the  atmosphere  thus  created. 
Ruskin  just  as  naturally  came  to  see  social  salvation  in  the 
Catholic  Italian  spirit,  without  its  religious  doctrine.     But  the 
faith  of  England  is  above  all  an  ethical  one.     Mr.  Frederic 
Harrison,  in  his  recent  life  of  Ruskin,  has  pointed  out  how 
litde  morality  has  had  to  do  with  the  supreme  manifestations 
of  art.     Nor  is  it  to  be  believed  that  the  Italy  of  the  Com- 
munes did  not  possess  the  germs  of  the  luxury  of  the  Renais- 
sance.    Greek  learning  is  not  to  be  saddled  with  the  vices  of 
Aretino.     The  age  that  produced   St.  Thomas  Aquinas  also 
produced  the  monster  Ezzelino  da  Romano.    We  need  hardly 
quarrel  with   Ruskin's  theories,  supported  as  they  are  by  so 
few  adherents.     If  his  insistence  on  the  Gothic  ages  is  un- 
tenable, we  may  still  hope  that  his  ideal  of  a  more  beautiful 
England  may  prove  true.     There  is  no  reason  why  we  should 
not  take  the  better  part  of  Catholicism,  as  we  have  already 
taken  from  it  its  zeal  for  the  erection  of  hospitals  :  a  mediaeval 
reform  of  monastic  inception.     Our  feelings  with  regard  to  the 
Papacy  need  not  blind  us  to  the  fact  that  Catholicisrn  is  a 
symbolic  view  of  the  Christianity  of  which  Puritanism  is  the 

^  Ruskin's  conception  of  art  was  evidently  derived  from  the  Platonist 
theory  of  an  ideal  of  beauty. 


94  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

more  practical  reading.  Even  if  we  hold  that  these  funda- 
mental differences  are  part  of  the  economy  of  nature,  we  can 
be  grateful  to  Ruskin  for  endeavouring  to  sow  the  seed  of 
foreign  gardens  in  our  somewhat  impoverished  soil.  But  in 
considering  the  influence  of  Ruskin,  we  have  to  remember 
that  far  greater  influence  of  Catholicism  inspiring  the  Italian 
ideal,  which  is  not  necessarily  suited  to  the  evolution  of  our 
own  race. 

To  pass  to  French  contemporaries  of  Ruskin,  Theophile 
Gautier's  Italia'^  was  the  result  of  a  journey  in  1850,  which 
took  the  writer  as  far  as  Naples  but  only  actually  describes 
the  northern  towns.  It  is  devoted  chiefly  to  a  description  of 
Venice,  from  which  we  have  drawn  largely,  as  Gautier's  im- 
pression is  the  first  which  has  our  modern  idea  about  Venice. 
Certainly  he  was  not  the  first  traveller  who  accepted  the 
beauty  of  St.  Mark's ;  his  account  at  any  rate  preceded  the 
completion  of  Ruskin's  Stones  of  Venice.  Gautier's  previous 
travels  in  Spain  enabled  him  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of  the 
Byzantine  architecture  and  mosaic,  so  much  akin  to  the 
Moorish  survivals  in  Spain.  We  may  safely  leave  to  the 
reader  the  valuing  of  Gautier's  style,  which  amid  its  journaUstic 
facility  often  has  the  brilliancy  of  a  water-colour  rendering. 
That  he  is  always  precisely  accurate  is  not  to  be  affirmed,  but 
his  impressionism  serves  the  purpose  of  giving  some  idea  of 
an  almost  indescribable  building  like  St.  Mark's.  Gautier,  we 
are  told,  coming  to  Venice  in  later  years  straight  from  the 
Parthenon,  said  :  "  On  my  return  from  Athens,  Venice  seemed 
to  me  trivial  and  grossly  decadent."  Greek  Art,  of  course,  is 
nearer  the  fountain-head  of  natural  beauty.  Gautier,  not- 
withstanding, must  be  credited  with  being  among  the  earliest 
writers  to  mark  the  decorative  fascination  of  Byzantine  archi- 
tecture and  decoration.  He  was  a  pioneer  in  his  admiration 
of  Carpaccio,  and  if  time  and  opportunity  had  been  his,  he 
might  almost  have  achieved  the  general  appreciation  of  Italy 
which  was  reserved  for  Taine. 

J.  J.  Ampere,  the  son  of  the  famous  mathematician,  was  a 
professor  at  the  Athenaeum  of  Marseilles,  and  was  among  the 
earhest  writers  who  illustrated  historical  documents  by  the 
results  of  practical  archaeology.  His  History  of  Rome  ^  (only 
reaching  to  the  time  of  Augustus)  was  studied  in  Rome  itself, 

'  Gautier  has  never  before  been  translated. 

'-*  Anotlier  classical    historian   of  the  time   was   George    Dennis,   who 
wrote  the  Cities  and  Cevieteries  of  Etniria  (1848). 


ITALY   AND.  THE   MODERN   SPIRIT  95 

and  Ampere  brings  the  evidence  of  busts  or  medals  to  the 
support  of  his  statements.  His  volume,  called  La  Grece,  Rome 
et  Dante  (1850),  contains  a  scholarly  account  of  early  travels 
in  Italy,  but  it  is  by  the  Voyage  Dantesque  contained  in  it 
that  Ampere  most  wins  our  gratitude.  These  are  sketches 
of  travel  in  Pisa,  Lucca,  Pistoia,  Gubbio,  Verona,  Rimini, 
Ravenna,  and  the  other  towns  mentioned  in  the  Divina 
Conwiedia.  Ampere's  knowledge  of  Dante  could  not  be  that 
of  later  commentators,  but  his  enthusiasm  has  led  many 
students  to  deeper  research.  His  description,  for  instance, 
of  the  plain  of  Siena,  and  of  the  battle  of  Mont-Aperti,  where 
Dante  was  present,  is  of  interest  if  we  remember  that  the 
Sienese  flag  carried  that  day  is  still  in  the  Cathedral.  It  is 
with  reluctance  that  we  have  left  such  passages  aside  as  being 
beyond  the  scope  of  the  present  volume. 

Alexandre  Dumas  pere  was  not  able  to  resist  the  current 
of  mediaevalism.  His  U?ie  Afinee  a  Florence  is  mainly  a  ren- 
dering of  early  stories  from  the  chronicles  of  Florence.  In 
the  Corricolo — a  book  we  have  been  unable  to  trace — he 
writes,  we  believe,  about  modern  Naples.  Monte  Crista  has 
a  clever  story  about  life  in  the  Campagna. 

The  study  of  ecclesiology  could  not  fail  to  go  with  that  of 
early  art.  Mrs.  Jameson,  after  a  briefer  voyage  in  youth, 
went  to  Italy  in  1847,  and  wrote  within  the  next  five  years 
her  indispensable  books  called  Sacred  attd  Legendary  Art, 
Legends  of  the  Saints,  Legends  of  the  Monastic  Orders,  and 
Legends  of  the  Madonna.  If  these  books  err  in  an  excessive 
tenderness  of  sentiment,  they  give  us  the  greatest  aid  in  the 
study  of  the  spiritual  side  of  Italian  Art.  Henry  Hart 
MiLMAN^  (i 791-1868),  Dean  of  St.  Paul's,  was  a  man  of 
varied  attainments,  who  wrote  capable  plays  and  translated 
poetry  from  the  Sanscrit  when  knowledge  of  Oriental  lan- 
guages was  still  unadvanced.  He  annotated  Gibbon,  and  his 
IListory  of  Latin  Christianity  down  to  the  Death  of  Pope 
Nicholas  V.  (1855)  was  praised  by  Macaulay,  and  remains  a 
standard  work. 

Among  the  enthusiasts  of  Gothic  architecture  was  G.  E. 
Street,  author  of  Brick  a  fid  Marble  in  the  Middle  Ages  {\2>c^s)- 
The  overdoing  of  Gothic  admiration  in  this  period  cannot  be 
better  illustrated  than  in  the  following  notes  written  by  the 

*  A  historian  to  whom  Milman  acknowledged  his  indebtedness  was 
Gregnrovius,  author  of  Rotue  in  ike  Middle  Ages,  &x\6.  IVanderjahre  in 
/talien  (1864),  as  also  of  a  charming  monograph  on  Capri. 


96  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

American  writer,  Charles  Eliot  Norton  in  1856:  "Rome 
possesses  comparatively  few  works  of  those  centuries  when 
modern  Art  exhibited  its  purest  power,  and  reached  a  spiritual 
elevation  from  which  it  soon  fell,  and  which  it  has  never 
since  reattained.  The  decline  that  became  obvious  in  the 
sixteenth  century  stamped  its  marks  upon  the  face  of  the 
city."  Norton's  Church-building  in  the  Middle  ^ges,  however, 
is  a  most  scholarly  and  valuable  book,  and  there  was  a  good 
reason  for  a  Gothic  reaction  against  such  idolatry  as  this  of 
John  Bell  for  Domenichino's  St.  Agnes:  "The  serene 
and  beautiful  countenance  of  the  Saint  is  irradiated  by  an 
expression  of  rapt  holiness  and  heavenly  resignation  infinitely 
touching."  Norton  complained  of  the  want  of  an  artistic 
guide-book  for  Italy.  This  had  been  in  part  attempted  by 
another  American  writer,  G.  S.  Hillard,  in  1853,  who  links 
together  some  notes  of  the  past  of  Rome,  Venice,  and  Florence. 
This  writer  also  gave  a  short  sketch  of  some  of  the  travellers 
and  their  travels  in  Italy,  which  we  have  preferred  not  to  consult, 
so  as  to  preserve  our  own  impressions  intact.  A  less  keen 
mediasvalist,  but  still  within  the  school,  was  the  gentle  poet 
Longfellow.  He  had  been  in  Italy  in  1828,  and  had 
described  it  in  prose,  but  his  chief  service  is  in  his  version 
of  Dante,^  rendered  with  much  felicity ;  and  his  notes  showed 
considerable  scholarship  for  his  day.  He  sees  clearly  the  close 
alliance  of  Dante's  conceptions  with  the  symbolism  of  the 
Cathedrals  ;  he  has  admirably  distinguished  the  plastic  form 
of  the  Inferno  from  the  painter-like  sense  of  the  Purgatorio  ; 
and  the  five  sonnets  referring  to  the  Divina  Cotnmedia  have 
a  dignity  and  insight  of  their  own. 

Robert  Browning,  as  far  as  we  can  ascertain,  went  to 
Italy  in  1838,  and  describing  this  first  trip  writes  :  "I  went  to 
Trieste,  then  Venice — then  through  Treviso  and  Bassano  to 
the  mountains,  delicious  Asolo,  all  my  places  and  castles,  you 
will  see.  Then  to  Vicenza,  Padua,  and  Venice  again."  From 
that  period  for  some  forty-five  years  onward  nearly  every 
volume  of  the  poet's  contained  something  referring  to  Italy, 
and  his  most  pre-eminent  works  are  exclusively  Italian.     In 

^  The  simple  diction  of  Longfellow's  Dante  translation  is  far  more 
appropriate  than  the  Millonic  blank  verse  of  Gary,  which,  excellent 
as  it  is,  gives  the  work  a  Renaissance  flavour.  Modern  study  of  Dante 
comprises  the  works  of  Scartazzini,  Dr.  E.  Moore,  the  Hon.  Warren 
Vernon,  P.  II.  Wicksteed,  and  Paget  Toynbee.  Rossetti's  Dante  and  his 
Circle  has  taken  its  place  as  a  classic. 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN    SPIRIT  97 

1840  he  published  Sordelio,  wherein  he  illustrated  some  of 
the  deepest  problems  of  medisevalism  in  the  character  of 
the  Mantuan  troubadour  who  was  mentioned  by  Dante,  and 
appears  to  have  been  a  kind  of  Italian  Faust.  Sordello  is 
difficult  to  read,  not  because  of  its  obscurity,  but  because  of  its 
wealth  of  allusion  to  early  history  and  ideas.  The  endeavour 
to  write  a  poem  dealing  with  the  spirit  of  MedifevaUsm  was  a 
remarkable  one  if  we  contrast  other  work  of  the  'forties.  Pippa 
Passes  is  dated  1841,  and  describes  scenes  at  A  solo  in  which 
various  characters  have  their  intentions  strengthened  or  varied 
by  the  artless  bird-songs  of  the  child  Pippa.  King  Victor  arid 
King  Charles  (1842)  gives  us  the  attempt  of  the  King  of  Sardinia 
to  get  back  the  crown  after  he  had  abdicated  in  favour  of  his 
son.  In  Drajuatic  Lyrics  (written  between  1840-50  or  later), 
Love  among  the  Ruins  would  appear  to  be  an  impression  of 
the  Campagna.  Old  Pictures  in  Florence  opens  the  series  of 
poems  such  as  Ayidrea  del  Sarto,  in  which  Browning  invades 
the  Byronic  realms  of  poetic  criticism  of  art.  Not  to  epi- 
tomise the  entire  works,  The  Statue  and  the  Bust  is  instinct 
with  Florentine  beauty,  and  among  other  minor  poems  are 
the  amusing  utterances  of  the  Jews  at  the  Pope's  annual 
sermon  (now  abolished)  and  Pacchiarotto.  Of  the  Ring  and 
the  Book,  with  its  many  aspects  of  one  crime  and  the  mingled 
tragedy  and  satire  of  the  soliloquies,  it  may  be  said  that  this 
poem  has  not  had  its  day  yet.  The  story  is  entirely  typical 
of  Rome  at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  the  extra- 
ordinary antiquarian  learning  of  the  author  has  not  killed  the 
dramatic  power  of  the  long  contest  for  life  of  Guido.  Work 
of  this  nature  can  never  become  entirely  popular ;  it  does  not 
base  itself  on  national  motives.  In  some  ways  it  is  a  return 
to  the  Italy  of  the  novelists  and  the  Elizabethans,  but  it  is 
one  with  the  added  psychology  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
Judging  him  as  an  exotic  poet,  the  greater  our  knowledge  of 
Italy  the  more  admirable  Robert  Browning's  Italian  poems  will 
appear ;  those  which  are  more  important,  for  their  rendering 
of  the  national  character  of  Italy,  the  minor  lyrics  for  delicate 
suggestions  of  atmosphere,  of  landscape,  or  the  texture  of 
flower,  tree,  and  ruin. 

Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning's  principal  Italian  poem 
may  be  said  to  be  Casa  Giiidi  Windows  (1851),  a  passionate 
plea  for  the  liberation  of  Italy.  In  Aurora  Leigh  there  are 
some  slight  pen-pictures,  of  no  great  interest ;  the  Poems  before 
Congress  and  Last  Poems  (1862)  contain  further  verses  about 

G 


98  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Italian  unity,  but  the  style  is  not  equal  to  the  sentiment,  and 
it  is  not  possible  to  rate  the  author  of  the  beautiful  Sonnets 
from  the  Portuguese  among  those  who  have  made  Italy  more 
real  to  us.  It  may  be  remarked  that  neither  in  Mrs.  Browning's 
letters  to  F.  G.  Kenyon  or  R.  H.  Home,  nor  in  the  letters  to 
and  from  her  husband,  are  there  any  peculiarly  felicitous 
descriptions  of  Italian  places. 

As  Mrs.  Browning's  work  is  in  great  part  a  plea  for  Italian 
unity  we  may  here  insert  a  few  words  about  the  history  of 
the  risorgimento.  From  the  Congress  of  Vienna  till  the 
Revolution  of  1848  the  conspiracies  for  freedom  in  Italy 
were  mainly  the  work  of  the  local  carbonari  societies,  for  the 
main  body  of  the  people  did  not  think  a  united  kingdom 
possible.  In  1S49  short-lived  republics  were  set  up  in  Rome 
and  Florence,  but  the  results  of  the  battle  of  Novara,  and  the 
interference  of  the  French  in  Roman  affairs,  put  back  the 
movement  for  unity.  Nevertheless  the  reigning  house  of 
Savoy  was  coming  forward  as  the  ostensible  head  of  the 
movement,  and  with  the  assistance  of  Napoleon  HI.  (paid  for 
by  important  cessions  of  territory),  Victor  Emanuel  defeated 
the  Austrians  at  Magenta.  The  counsels  of  Mazzini,  Cavour, 
and  Ricasoli,  and  the  popularity  of  Garibaldi  had  all  done 
their  share,  and  when  the  Bourbons  evacuated  Sicily  and  the 
re  galantuojuo  was  crowned  at  Turin,  Florence  was  the  capital 
first  chosen;  but  when  German  pressure  in  1870  made  the 
French  troops  leave  Rome,  unity  was  finally  complete  in  the 
settling  of  the  dynasty  in  the  ancient  capital.  It  will  be  seen 
from  this  bare  outline  that  Italian  freedom  was  gained  by  the 
intervention  and  conflict  of  some  of  those  very  powers  which 
had  made  it  lose  its  liberty  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  before. 
The  most  recent  works  on  this  great  struggle  are  those  of  the 
Countess  Martinengo-Cesaresco,  and  Mr.  George  Meredith's 
Vittoria  is  a  brilliant  social  picture  of  the  movement. 

Tennyson's  one  contribution  to  Italian  travel  consists  of 
the  charming  poem  called  "  The  Daisy,"  and  with  a  delicate 
felicity  of  terse  expression  gives  us  glimpses  of  the  northern 
towns.  No  better  description  of  Lombard  architecture  could 
be  set  down  in  the  given  number  of  words  than  this  : 

And  stern  and  sad  (so  rare  the  smiles 
Of  sunlight)  looked  the  Lombard  piles  ; 

Porch-jiillars  on  the  lion  resting, 
And  sombre,  old,  colonnaded  aisles. 


ITALY   AND   THE   MODERN   SPIRIT  99 

Here  again  is  the  very  hue  and  colour  of  the  Tuscan  plain 
in  which  Florence  lies  : 

In  bright  vignettes,  and  each  complete, 
Of  tower  or  duomo,  sunny-sweet. 

Or  palace,  how  the  city  glitter'd 
Thro'  cypress  avenues,  at  our  feet. 

Tennyson  also  wrote  some  lines  on  Sirmio,  and  treated  an 
Italian  subject  in  his  The  Falcon,  a  play  taken  from  Boccaccio. 

Nathaniel  Hawthorne  ^  was  already  a  middle-aged  man 
when  he  went  to  Italy  in  1858,  and  his  Italian  Note-book 
shows  that  it  was  difficult  for  him  at  first  to  fall  in  with  Italian 
ideas.  Like  most  of  the  Americans  of  his  period  he  only 
sees  the  absurd  side  of  the  art,  until  a  greater  familiarity  with 
the  history  of  so  different  an  evolution  to  that  he  knows  aids 
him  to  see  its  beauty.  A  curious  passage  in  Transformation, 
afterwards  called  The  Marble  Faun,  states  the  case  for  Philis- 
tinism with  some  force.  But  the  painting  of  "  Venuses,  Ledas, 
Graces "  does  not  surely  disqualify  a  man  from  rendering 
religious  subjects,  and  Hawthorne  admits  that  after  the  ob- 
jections he  makes,  "  a  throng  of  spiritual  faces  look  reproach- 
fully upon  us."  To  come  to  the  romance  itself,  The  Marble 
Faun,  though  begun  abroad,  was  only  completed  in  England. 
Mr.  Henry  James  well  describes  the  central  figure  when  he 
says  :  "  Every  one  will  remember  the  figure  of  the  simple, 
joyous,  sensuous  young  Italian,  who  is  not  so  much  a  man  as 
a  child,  and  not  so  much  a  child  as  a  charming,  innocent 
animal,  and  how  he  is  brought  to  self-knowledge  and  to  a 
miserable  conscious  manhood,  by  the  commission  of  a  crime. 
.  .  .  Hawthorne  has  done  few  things  more  beautiful  than  the 
picture  of  the  unequal  complicity  of  guilt  between  his  im- 
mature and  dimly  puzzled  hero,  with  his  clinging,  unquestion- 
ing, unexacting  devotion,  and  the  dark,  powerful,  more 
widely-seeing  feminine  nature  of  Miriam."  The  figure  of 
Hilda,  "  the  pure  and  somewhat  rigid  New  England  girl," 
gives  us  a  type  in  contrast,  and  Hawthorne  makes  a  strong 
point  in  letting  her  confess  to  a  priest  the  secret  she  had 
surprised  and  then  come  away,  as  Mr.  James  says,  "  with  her 
conscience  lightened,  not  a  whit  the  less  a  Puritan  than 
before."  Hawthorne,  it  seems  to  us,  has  admirably  met  the 
difficulty  of  constructing  a  novel  which  shall  give  some  con- 

^  A  friend  of  Hawthorne's  was   the   lovable   little  woman  Frederika 
Bremer,  a  Scandinavian,  who  wrote  much  on  Italy. 


loo  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

ception  of  the  American  impression  of  Rome.  Democratic 
America  and  the  town  of  the  Papacy  are  poles  apart,  and 
yet  may  meet  in  their  common  humanity.  The  Marble  Faun 
certainly  suggests  the  old  crimes  of  the  ancient  city,  and  the 
unreality  of  our  existence  under  such  conditions,  for  it  is  not 
the  past,  but  the  present  which  seems  untrue  in  Rome. 
Hawthorne's  heroines  are  not  those  of  our  day,  and  in 
costume  (to  use  the  word  in  a  wide  sense)  the  romance  may 
not  please  actual  taste,  but  considering  the  difificulty  of  the 
problem  the  result  is  worthy  of  high  praise. 

George  Eliot's  most  important  journey  in  Italy  was  in 
1 860,  and  it  is  described  in  some  ninety  pages  of  the  epistolary 
biography  of  her  life.  The  gifted  novelist — herself  so  much 
like  one  of  Michael  Angelo's  Sibyls- — could  not  fail  to  say 
some  interesting  things,  as,  for  example,  this  concerning  St. 
Peter's :  "  The  piazza,  with  Bernini's  colonnades,  and  the 
gradual  slope  upward  to  the  mighty  temple,  gave  me  always 
a  sense  of  having  entered  some  millennial  new  Jerusalem, 
where  all  small  and  shabby  things  were  unknown."  As  a 
general  rule,  Roman  art  is  forced  and  unpleasant  to  her,  but 
she  loved  the  people  and  exclaims  :  "  Oh  the  beautiful  men 
and  women  and  children  here  !  Such  wonderful  babies  with 
\vise  eyes  ! — such  grand-featured  mothers  nursing  them  !  As 
one  drives  along  the  streets  sometimes,  one  sees  a  madonna 
and  child  at  every  third  or  fourth  upper  window  ;  and  on 
Monday  a  little  crippled  girl  seated  at  the  door  of  a  church 
looked  up  at  us  with  a  face  full  of  such  pathetic  sweetness 
and  beauty,  that  I  think  it  can  hardly  leave  me  again."  At 
Naples  she  liked  the  too-little  known  Giotto  frescoes  in  the 
church  of  L'Incoronata,  but  her  highest  admiration  was 
reserved  for  the  Temple  of  Neptune  at  Paestum,  "  the  finest 
thing,  I  verily  believe,  we  have  seen  in  Italy.  It  has  all  the 
requisites  to  make  a  building  impressive.  First,  form.  What 
perfect  satisfaction  and  repose  for  the  eye  in  the  calm  re- 
petition of  these  columns — in  the  proportions  of  height  and 
length,  of  front  and  sides  :  the  right  thing  is  found — it  is  not 
sought  after  in  uneasy  labour  or  detail  or  exaggeration.  Next, 
colour.  It  is  built  of  travertine,  like  the  other  two  temples ; 
but  while  they  have  remained,  for  the  most  part,  a  cold  grey, 
this  Temple  of  Neptune  has  a  rich,  warm,  pinkish  brown  that 
seems  to  glow  and  deepen  under  one's  eyes." — (Archaeology, 
we  may  note,  had  not  in  i860  reached  the  knowledge  of  the 
invariable  polychromatic  decoration  of  the  ancient  temples.) 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN   SPIRIT         loi 

" — l^diStly,  position.  It  stands  on  the  rich  plain,  covered  with 
long  grass  and  flowers,  in  sight  of  the  sea  on  one  hand,  and 
the  sublime  blue  mountains  on  the  other.  Many  plants 
caress  the  ruins  :  the  acanthus  is  there,  and  I  saw  it  in  green 
life  for  the  first  time ;  but  the  majority  of  the  plants  on  the 
floor  or  bossing  the  architrave,  are  familiar  to  me  as  home 
flowers — purple  mallows,  snapdragons,  pink  hawkweeds." 

George  Eliot  was  enthusiastic  with  Florence,  but  made 
the  usual  mistake  of  condemning  the  intentional  simplicity  of 
the  interior  of  the  Duomo.  The  frescoes  she  liked  best  were 
those  of  Fra  Angelico  in  San  Marco,  and  generally  from  her 
praise  of  Giotto,  Orcagna,  Masaccio,  and  Ghirlandajo  we  may 
say  that  her  view  of  Florence  is  that  which  prevails  to-day. 
It  is  at  Florence  that  George  Eliot  first  refers  to  Romola  as 
"  rather  an  ambitious  project,"  but  it  was  in  the  following  year 
(and  in  London)  that  she  began  the  studies  for  it  by  reading 
the  lengthy  list  of  books  she  has  left  us,  which  includes 
Sacchetti,  "  The  Monks  of  the  West,"  Sismondi,  Villari's 
"  Savonarola,"  Politian's  "  Epistles,"  and  A'^archi.  The  Hst 
certainly  suggests  cramming  for  an  examination,  and  the 
Romola  romance  has  now  lost  much  of  its  former  vogue. 
We  are  not  inclined  to  regret  this  change  of  taste,  (ieorge 
Eliot's  rendering  of  Italian  character  errs  in  precisely  the 
same  way  as  the  late  Mrs.  Oliphant's  historical  studies  :  she 
cannot  keep  out  the  persistent  note  of  modern  English  thought. 
Romola  herself  is  a  very  proper  young  woman  of  the  nine- 
teenth century,  Savonarola  has  too  much  of  our  Liberalism. 
In  the  same  way  Mrs.  Oliphant's  St.  Francis  has  become  an 
Evangelical  whom  one  could  put  into  an  East  End  parish 
without  the  least  misgiving.  In  the  atmosphere  of  Romola, 
instead  of  the  balmy  air  which,  according  to  Vasari,  made 
Florence  prolific  in  great  men,  we  have  cold  English  airs  and 
a  dry  severity  of  outline  that  lacks  Italian  viorbidezza  and 
Tuscan  grace. 

A  far  more  successful  effort  than  George  Eliot's  is  that 
of  the  late  Mr.  J.  Henry  Shorthouse  in  John  Inglesant 
(1880).  The  manner  is  perhaps  fastidious,  but  the  quality  of 
fascination  belongs  to  many  of  the  episodes.  The  hero  carries 
an  atmosphere  of  northern  melancholy  with  him,  and  is  too 
much  like  Henry  Esmond  placed  in  an  earlier  period.  This 
does  not  detract  from  the  grace  of  the  Italian  scenes  amid 
which  he  moves ;  and  the  careful  documentation  not  in- 
frequently is  quickened  into  lifelike  presentment.     The  fault 


I02  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

of  the  book  as  a  romance  is  that  it  tends  towards  a  definite 
religious  conclusion.  Practically  we  may  agree  with  that  con- 
clusion, but  the  least  idea  of  "  tendency  "  takes  away  the  finer 
flavour  of  romance ;  and  when  we  finish  the  book  we  can 
but  turn  back  to  such  a  scene  as  that  in  which  the  Cavaliere 
Inglesant,  having  met  his  defenceless  enemy  in  a  mountain  pass 
at  sunrise,  forgives  him  before  the  altar  of  the  solitary  chapel, 
and,  leaving  his  sword  with  the  priest,  goes  forth  to  become  in 
the  future  a  legend  of  the  apparition  of  St.  George  in  that 
desolate  place.  Such  a  conception  has  no  little  of  the  spiritual 
beauty  of  the  early  romances  of  chivalry. 

§  6.  Scientific  Study 

Science  does  not  appear  to  have  been  applied  to  Italian 
matters  before  the  evolutionary  theory  began  to  come  forward. 
Among  the  first  scientific  books  might  be  classed  the  careful 
study  of  Rome  by  Sir  George   Head.     Born  in   1782,  he 
was  educated  at  the  Charterhouse,  and  served  through  the 
Peninsular   War ;    he   also    acted    as    deputy-marshal   at   the 
Coronation  of  William  IV.     He  wrote  on  the  development  of 
commerce  in  England,  and  was  a  contributor  to  the  Quarterly 
Review.     His  travels  in  Rome  usefully  supplement  a  gap  that 
we  could  otherwise  have  with  difficulty  filled,  for  he  gives  us 
facts  and  nothing  but  facts  concerning  the  minor  churches  in 
that  town.     Sir  G.  Head's  three  bulky  volumes  form  a  monu- 
ment of  the  industry  of  less  than  two  years'  work,  and  show 
how  a  sober  observer  can  be  of  service.     Many  of  Head's 
theories   about   the   antiquities   have   been   replaced   by   the 
researches  popularised  for  English  readers  by  Lanciani.     In 
the  same  class  we  would  place  a  later  book,  the  Roba  di Rotna^ 
of  William  W.   Story  ;  it  takes  its    title    from   the    Itafian 
word  roba,  which  may  mean  "  goods  and  chattels,"  "  odds  and 
ends."     In   this  extraordinary  repertory,  published  in    1862, 
Mr.  Story  brought  together  an  enormous  amount  of  knowledge 
concerning  Roman  folklore,  history,  customs,  festivals,  char- 
acter, and  anecdote.     The  book  is  not  scientifically  arranged, 
and  was  probably  not  written  for  that  purpose;  it  is  never- 
theless a  sociological  book.     One  point  only  can  we  refer  to 
it  amid  this  mass  of  information  :  the  Italian  conception  of 
the  Christ.     Northern  travellers,  with  their  idea  of  a  benign 

1  A  chatty  book  dealinc;  mostly  with  the  different  classes  in  Rome  is 
E.  About's  Rome  Contemporaine  (i860). 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN    SPIRTr         103 

Mediator,  are  surprised  and  sometimes  shocked  at  the  central 
figure  in  Michael  Angelo's  Last  Judgment.  The  book  makes 
it  clear  that  the  Catholic  idea  of  Mediation  is  centred  in  the 
Madonna,  while  the  stern  punishment  of  sin  is  in  the  hands  of 
the  Saviour.  Some  of  the  painters,  however,  the  Mystics  and 
Raphael,  for  instance,  give  a  different  aspect  to  the  figure  of 
the  Saviour. 

H.  Taine's  Voyage  en  Italic'^  was  published  in  1865,  a 
year  after  the  Philosophie  de  PArt.  Taine  had  in  the  latter 
work  epitomised  the  lectures  he  had  delivered  to  the  students 
of  the  Beaux-Arts,  or  French  national  art  school.  The  Voyage 
en  Italie  brings  us  practically  to  the  climax  of  northern 
knowledge  concerning  Italian  art.  Taine,  from  his  profound 
knowledge  of  English  literature  and  P>ench  history,  his  posi- 
tivist  ideas  and  his  insight  into  painting,  was  well  fitted  to  sum 
up  the  results  of  three  centuries  of  research.  We  have  hitherto 
seen  our  travellers  preferring  the  art  of  one  period,  and  even 
the  new  cult  of  Medisevalism  did  not  exist  without  a  corre- 
sponding neglect  of  the  Renaissance.  Taine  in  his  philosophical 
letters  brings  forward  the  history,  but  preserves  an  admirably 
picturesque  style  and  a  keen  sense  of  beauty,  with  appropriate 
colour  of  phrase  for  every  sensation.  Other  writers  after  him 
may  glean  a  new  impression  here  and  there,  but  it  will  hardly 
be  possible  to  take  a  more  comprehensive  view  of  the  entire 
problem  of  Italian  art.  He  has  little  of  the  superciliousness 
generally  affected  by  Frenchmen  when  speaking  of  Italy  ;  and 
none  of  the  blague  which  amuses  but  often  offends  us  in 
De  Brosses. 

Taine,  if  we  may  place  him  by  his  own  methods  of  classi- 
fication, is  the  French  equivalent  of  Ruskin.  The  two  men 
are  very  different  indeed  in  many  of  the  results  they  arrive  at, 
but  each  represents  the  best  culture  of  the  respective  educa- 
tions of  their  countries.  Where  Ruskin  is  diffuse  and  scholastic 
in  the  manner  of  an  Oxford  commentator,  Taine  is  methodical 
and  clear ;  Ruskin  loves  to  quote  inscriptions,  Taine  prefers 
to  arrive  at  general  principles.  Ruskin's  fault  is  that  out  of 
many  facts  he  arrives  at  few  principles  ;  Taine's  fault  is  that 
he  is  inclined  to  find  a  principle  for  every  fact.  We  need  not 
follow  the  gifted  Frenchman  in  all  his  deductions.  It  is  not 
to  be  believed  that  the  results  of  Italian  civilisation  can  be 
included  in  any  series  of  generalisations,  however  far-reaching. 

^  This  book  has  been  done  into  Enghsh,  but  we  have  translated  our 
extracts  anew. 


I04  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

We  have  sought  to  express  one  persistent  national  factor  in 
the  word  Catholicism,  but  we  can  no  more  find  a  formula  for 
Italian  art  than  we  could  define  the  result  of  Shakespeare's 
plays.  The  consideration  of  anything  that  is  natural  leads  us 
to  an  infinity  of  cause  and  effect,  and  in  the  positivists'  work 
we  see  a  vain  attempt  to  isolate  a  certain  class  of  phenomena, 
and  mark  nothing  more  than  the  interaction  of  the  various 
influences  or  things  belonging  to  that  class.  Comprehensive 
as  the  view  of  Taine  is,  we  should  not  be  satisfied  with  his 
book  alone,  for  scientific  study  of  the  art  of  a  nation  will  never 
give  us  all  we  need.  Art  does  not  exist  in  the  abstract,  it  only 
begins  to  be  something  tangible  when  a  human  temperament 
is  affected  by  it.  We  can  usefully  learn  from  others  what  it 
means  to  them ;  science  can  only  trace  the  evolution,  and  is 
invariably  cold  with  regard  to  the  human  influence.^ 

For  the  painter  working  in  Italy  some  suggestions  made  in 
the  letters  of  Henri  Regnault  (the  painter  who  died  too 
soon,  but  at  the  call  of  national  duty)  may  be  mentioned. 
"I  think  it  is  almost  harmful,"  he  wrote  in  1867,  "to  come 
to  Rome  before  knowing  thoroughly  the  history  of  the  art 
which  is  to  be  so  clearly  read  in  Florence,  and  whose  gaps 
may  be  filled  in  at  Padua,  Parma,  Siena,  Pisa,  Venice,  and 
other  towns.  What  are  we  to  do  when  suddenly  put  face  to 
face  with  the  formidable  giant  of  the  Sistine  chapel?  How 
can  we  preserve  any  hope  in  his  presence,  when  at  each  visit 
we  are  crushed  with  wonder  and  admiration,  so  strangely 
mingled  that  they  may  very  well  be  fear?"  After  pointing 
out  that  every  pre-eminent  master  breaks  the  mould,  Regnault 
goes  on  :  "I  have  made  up  my  mind  to  begin  by  a  thorough 
study  of  the  masters  who  enabled  Raphael,  Titian,  and 
Leonardo  to  be  what  they  were.  Not  that  I  think  they  will 
make  me  a  Raphael,  a  Titian,  a  Leonardo,  or  a  Veronese  all 
in  one;  I  have  no  such  great  ambition.  But  the  earlier 
painters  (I  only  speak  of  those  I  saw  at  Florence)  are  to  be 
studied  in  their  quaint  yet  profound  sentiment,  and  show 
their  qualities  of  colour  more  readily  than  the  achieved 
masters,  who  wilfully  conceal  their  secrets."  Regnault,  as  a 
matter  of  fact,  finally  formed  himself  on  the  Spanish  schools, 

1  Among  later  French  books  are  Francis  Wey's  Rome,  and  C.  Vriarte's 
books  on  Venice,  Florence,  and  on  Rlantegna.  The  Pt'Urinages  Ombriens 
of  J.  C.  Broussole  may  also  be  noted,  and  Paul  Bourget's  Sensations 
d'ltalie  (1891).  M.  A.  Bournet  has  written  pleasantly  on  French  travellers 
and  painters  in  Rome  and  in  Venice. 


ITALY   AND   THE   MODERN    SPIRIT          105 

which,  with  the  best  Dutch  schools,  have  now  an  increasingly 
great  influence. 

John  Addington  Symonds  went  to  Italy  shortly  after 
leaving  Oxford  in  1863,  and  made  several  visits  there  in  suc- 
ceeding years.  The  first  volume  of  his  Renaissance  in  Italy  ^ 
was  published  under  the  title  of  The  Age  of  the  Despots  in 
1875,  ^'^d  succeeding  volumes  were  The  Revival  of  Learnings 
the  Fine  Arts,  and  the  Catholic  Reaction.  These  works  are  a 
sequence  of  essays  rather  than  documented  histories,  but  they 
are  indispensable  to  the  student  of  Italian  history.  The  judg- 
ments are  always  moderate,  the  style  is  brilliant  and  varied ; 
and  admiration  of  art  does  not  blind  the  writer  to  scientific 
principles ;  he  always  preserves  his  native  Protestantism, 
though  he  has  an  unprejudiced  insight  into  the  Catholic  spirit 
and  a  ready  comprehension  of  Italian  character.  One  of  the 
greatest  aids  to  the  understanding  of  Italian  history  or  art  is  a 
knowledge  of  the  modern  Italians,  which  is  only  to  be  acquired 
by  some  years  of  close  personal  intercourse.  Symonds  was 
also  able  to  estimate  the  comparative  value  of  modern  Italian 
historians,  for  it  must  be  remembered  that  their  accounts  of 
earlier  periods  have  occasionally  been  biassed  by  an  immediate 
political  motive,  so  potent  still  is  the  influence  of  the  Papacy, 
which  in  some  eyes  can  do  nothing  good.  As  a  traveller 
Symonds  is  specially  commendable  for  the  notes  on  the 
smaller  towns  which  he  contributed  to  the  Cornhill  Magazine, 
now  collected  in  three  volumes.  This  writer  of  prolific  in- 
dustry also  translated  Benvenuto  Cellini's  Life,  the  Memoirs 
of  Carlo  Gozzi,  and  produced  an  efficient  if  not  remarkable 
biography  of  Michael  Angelo.  A  gleaner  who  must  not  be 
neglected  is  Francis  Elliot,  the  author  of  An  Idle  Wotnan 
in  Italy.  The  descriptions  of  the  towns  to  the  north  and 
south  of  Rome  have  a  charm  of  colour  which  makes  them 
very  attractive ;  the  author's  learning,  too,  is  not  inconsider- 
able. In  not  a  few  cases  Mrs.  Elliot's  descriptions  of  classical 
Rome  take  up  ground  which  other  writers  have  left  untrod 
because  of  its  familiarity.  To  sum  up  the  recollections  of  the 
Roman  Forum  is  a  hazardous  experiment,  but  the  most  learned 
scholar  may  often  be  usefully  reminded  of  facts  learned  in  his 
schooldays  and  not  always  clearly  remembered.  Mrs.  Elliot 
succeeds  where  an  earlier  writer,  Mrs.  Eaton,  failed.  Though 
Mrs.  Eaton's  Rome  gave  a  valuable  epitome,  it  was  marred  by 
too  many  feminine  "  asides." 

^  Burckhardt's  Renaissance  is  also  a  standard  work. 


io6  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Among  our  recent  searchers  in  the  field  is  to  be  mentioned 
the  late  Mr.  Grant  Allen,  who  in  taking  towns  like  Venice 
or  Florence  followed  strictly  evolutionary  lines.  His  method 
of  dealing  with  churches  may  be  quoted  from  his  volume  on 
Venice  :  "  A  church,  as  a  rule,  is  built  over  the  body  or  relics 
of  a  particular  saint,  in  whose  special  honour  it  was  originally 
erected.  That  saint  was  usually  one  of  great  local  importance 
at  the  moment  of  its  erection,  or  was  peculiarly  implored 
against  plague,  foreign  enemies,  or  some  other  pressing  and 
dread  misfortune.  In  dealing  with  such  a  church,  then,  I 
endeavour  to  show  what  were  the  circumstances  which  led  to 
its  erection,  and  what  memorials  of  these  circumstances  it  still 
retains.  In  other  cases  it  may  derive  its  origin  from  some 
special  monastic  body — Benedictine,  Dominican,  Franciscan 
— and  may  therefore  be  full  of  the  peculiar  symbolism  and 
historical  allusion  of  the  order  who  founded  it.  Wherever  1 
have  to  deal  with  such  a  church,  I  try  as  far  as  possible  to 
exhibit  the  effect  which  its  origin  had  upon  its  architecture  and 
decoration  ;  to  trace  the  image  of  the  patron  saint  in  sculpture 
or  stained  glass  throughout  the  fabric  ;  and  to  set  forth  the 
connection  of  the  whole  design  with  time  and  place,  in  order 
and  purpose.  In  short,  instead  of  looking  upon  monuments 
of  the  sort  mainly  as  the  products  of  this  or  that  architect,  I 
look  upon  them  rather  as  material  embodiments  of  the  spirit 
of  the  age." 

Perhaps  the  most  fruitful  of  recent  discoveries  is  that 
resulting  from  the  researches  of  scholars  into  the  records 
of  the  Comacine  Guilds.  The  labours  of  Merzario  and 
Castellani  have  been  popularised  for  English  readers,  and 
also  fortified  by  a  great  deal  of  study  by  the  lady  who  called 
herself  Leader  Scott  in  her  Cathedral  Builders .  The  theory 
put  forward  and  supported  by  much  evidence  is  that  the 
original  guild  traced  its  origin  from  the  later  Imperial  architects, 
who  fled  to  the  islands  of  the  lake  of  Como  during  the  barbaric 
invasions.  From  thence  issued  the  organisations  of  masters 
and  apprentices  which  may  be  traced  in  Florence,  Siena,  and 
other  towns,  besides  many  links  connecting  them  with  the 
architecture  of  the  north.  For  the  examination  of  Italian 
architecture  from  800  to  1400,  this  work  appears  to  us  in- 
dispensable. Among  writers  who  are  not  easy  to  place  in  any 
systematic  order  are  Vernon  Lee,  with  studies  on  the  Renais- 
sance and  eighteenth  century ;  Dean  Stanley,  from  whose 
Letters  (edited  by  Mr.  R.  E.    I'rothero)  we  have  chosen  an 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN   SPIRIT         107 

admirable  historical  and  descriptive  account  of  Ravenna,  an 
account  which  might  serve  as  a  model  to  future  travellers ; 
Walker,writings  in  the  Original;  S.Laing,  who  wrote  suggestively 
on  the  future  of  the  Papacy  ;  John  Richard  Green,  the  historian, 
who  was  in  Italy  in  1870,  and  contributed  articles  to  the  Satur- 
day Revieiv  on  Como,  Capri,  and  ancient  art ;  Dean  Alford 
(^Letters)  ;  E.  A.  Freeman,  whose  essays  concerning  Venice  and 
other  towns  have  recently  been  collected.  The  writings  of  James 
Dennistoun  and  of  T.  A.  Trollope  were  mostly  historical, 
though  the  latter  published  also  an  account  of  a  journey  in 
Umbria.  Recent  writers  have  been  Mr.  W.  D.  Howells  (  Venice 
and  the  Venetians,  and  likewise  Tuscan  Cities),  the  Misses 
Horner  (  Walks  in  Florence),  Mr.  Horatio  F.  Brown  (the  history 
and  likewise  sketches  of  Venice),  Mr.  Marion  Crawford  {Ave 
Roma  Immortalis\  and  Mr.  Montgomery  Carmichael.  The 
works  of  all  of  these  writers  are  in  current  circulation.  Scientific 
criticism  of  art  began  for  English  readers  in  the  practical 
knowledge  of  Sir  Charles  Eastlake,  some  time  President  of  the 
Royal  Academy.  He  was  in  Italy  in  1S16,  and  after  the 
usual  tour  went  to  Rome,  which  he  made  his  home  for 
fourteen  years.  Besides  being  a  painter  of  distinction,  his 
Materials  for  the  History  of  Oil-Paintiiig  and  Contributions  to 
the  Literature  of  the  Fine  Arts  are  devoted  in  great  part  to 
Italian  subjects.  Many  important  Italian  pictures  in  the 
National  Gallery  were  chosen  by  him  for  purchase.  Eastlake 
has  been  followed  by  Crowe  and  Cavalcaselle,  C  Blanc, 
Muntz,  Bode,  Lafenestre,  B.  Behrenson,  and  others  ;  but  the 
younger  writers  mostly  base  their  method  on  that  of  Morelli 
in  the  fascinating  game  of  "  attributions." 

In  setting  down  the  briefest  statement  of  a  somewhat  pro- 
longed study  of  the  travel-books  of  three  centuries  and  in  con- 
sidering the  extracts  that  follow,  the  present  writer  has 
experienced  a  certain  change  in  his  attitude  towards  Italy. 
Some  indication  of  these  results  may  be  a  fitting  commentary 
on  the  whole  subject.  In  the  first  place,  a  student  of  histories 
or  descriptions  dealing  with  Italy  (quite  apart  from  original 
research  into  the  documents)  is  necessarily  impressed  by  the 
magnitude  of  the  subject.  We  go  to  Italy  in  light-hearted 
youth,  fortunately  unwitting  of  the  fact  that  we  are  going  to 
review  the  remains  of  the  civilisations  of  2000  years.  With 
the  results  of  the  labours  of  many  searchers  before  us,  with 
the  facility  to  go  from  town  to  town,  is  it  surprising  that  we 


io8  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

bring  home  confused  impressions  and  partial  estimates  ?  The 
humanist,  the  connoisseur,  or  the  romanticist  went  to  Italy  with 
a  certain  well-defined  standard  to  aid  him,  and  the  task  would 
be  easier  to-day  if  we  had  some  clue,  some  main  principle  to 
guide  us.  The  first  trip  to  Italy  will  preferably  be  a  scamper 
through,  a  journey  of  enjoyment,  and  it  is  after  that  first 
panoramic  visit  that  a  foundation  may  be  laid  for  building  on, 
and  this  should  surely  begin  with  scientific  study.  The  senti- 
mental rhetoric  so  many  writers  indulge  in  is  of  no  lasting 
service.  A  calm  appreciation  of  the  historical  causes  leading 
to  the  Romanesque,  Gothic,  and  Renaissance  eras  would  be 
an  infinitely  greater  aid.  Without  any  exhaustive  course  of 
study  the  reader  can  link  on  the  establishment  of  the  Papacy 
in  Rome  and  the  Eastern  element  in  Venice  to  the  Lombard 
influences  and  the  consolidation  of  the  early  Republics.  Then 
the  monastic  orders  come  forward,  followed  by  the  despotic 
governments,  as  much  in  ecclesiastical  Rome  as  elsewhere. 
The  invasions  of  France  and  Spain  were  succeeded  by  the 
Catholic  reaction,  and  finally  Italy  joins  in  the  grand  move- 
ment of  unity.  When  a  general  historic  view  has  been 
achieved,  it  will  be  far  easier  to  devote  attention  to  a  special 
period  according  to  the  preference  of  temperament. 

Whether  Italy  will  still  fill  the  place  in  culture  which  it 
has  occupied  hitherto  is  a  question  which  we  hesitate  to  answer. 
Italian  influences  in  architecture  are  at  present  to  be  seen  in 
every  big  town,  and  in  homes  not  a  few  there  hangs  some 
reproduction  of  the  Italian  rendering  of  the  Scriptural  narra- 
tives. The  mere  ignorant  denial  of  the  influence  of  Italy — 
which  with  Hebraic  and  Greek  traditions  forms  the  basis 
of  all  intellectual  culture — is  that  of  a  young  heir  who  thinks 
that  he  is  free  to  do  as  he  pleases  now  he  has  come  into  the 
estate.  In  a  way  our  ancestors  are  never  dead,  they  live  in  us 
more  than  we  know,  and  Italy  means  the  history  of  the  world 
for  centuries,  whether  in  its  direct  influence  or  in  the  reactions 
it  has  caused.  The  Hebrew  tradition  is  a  severe  discipline ; 
Greek  culture  is  only  suited  to  a  select  class  of  minds ;  the  art 
of  Italy  in  some  sense  combines  them.  With  the  blessings  of 
settled  government  and  personal  freedom  which  we  enjoy,  we 
we  are  somewhat  hampered  in  our  quest  of  the  manifestation 
of  beauty.  It  may  be  argued  that  the  spiritual  truth  of 
Puritanism  is  worth  more  than  all  the  magnificence  of  other 
faiths ;  and  this  does  not  deny  the  value  of  the  symbol,  for  to 


ITALY   AND   THE    MODERN    SPIRIT  109 

deny  that  would  be  to  do  away  with  all  art.^  We  may  say 
again  we  owe  very  much  that  has  dignity  and  grace  in  our 
towns  to  Italian  influence  ;  but  where  we  have  imitated  slavishly 
we  have  ceased  to  be  English  without  becoming  Italian. 
The  reason  of  this  is  not  far  to  seek  :  subject  as  much  as 
imagination  is  essentially  the  product  of  the  conditions  of  the 
time.  The  sign-manual  of  monasticism  is  on  most  of  the 
early  Italian  monuments ;  Renaissance  work  is  marked  by  the 
necessity  of  satisfying  the  taste  of  despotic  masters.  The 
Reformation  made  a  gulf  which  is  only  being  filled  as  we  come 
to  see  the  real  points  of  agreement  between  northern  and 
southern  civilisations.  In  modern  countries  where  art  has 
been  an  exotic  it  is  a  question  whether  we  shall  ever  throw 
off  the  parent  teaching.  Personally,  we  would  incline  to  the 
opinion  that  the  present  epoch  of  a  practically  complete  recog- 
nition of  the  art  of  the  past  is  the  turning  point.  We  cannot 
continue  to  remain  in  the  thraldom  of  Italy,  however  import- 
ant, however  inspiring  the  themes  of  the  past  may  be.  The 
world  has  moved  too  far  for  them  to  have  any  influence  other 
than  the  educative  one,  notwithstanding  the  hopes  once  enter- 
tained of  bringing  a  mediaeval  simpHcity  into  modern  life. 

A  certain  distrust  of  the  material  afforded  by  our  own 
country  has  been  the  result  of  the  excessive  admiration  of 
Italy  during  the  last  century.  This  distrust  is  connected  with 
insufficient  knowledge  of  our  Cathedrals  and  the  extensive 
post-Reformation  remains  we  possess  in  England ;  and  surely 
our  admitted  lack  of  early  mediaeval  relics  is  amply  compen- 
sated by  the  superb  literature  from  Spensej^  up  to  Chaucer, 
from  Piers  Ploughman  to  the  Anglo-Saxon  poems,  and  from 
the  Celtic  romances  of  chivalry  and  the  Arthurian  legend  back 
to  the  Teutonic  Sagas  and  the  Edda.  If  we  have  mostly  failed 
hitherto  in  the  pictorial  arts,  it  is  because  we  have  sought 
inspiration  rather  than  technique  in  Italy.  But  the  poetic 
imagination  is  precisely  the  quality  in  which  the  northern 
nations  are  not  lacking.  What  we  need  is  rather  a  sense  of 
pictorial  conception,  an  instinctive  knowledge  of  what  falls 
within  the  domain  of  sensuous  vision.  This  faculty  cannot  be 
bestowed,  but  it  can  be  trained,  and  Italian  study  will  only 
teach  us  to  seek,  to  delineate  and  harmonise  the  indwelling 

^  "  I,  for  one,  look  forward  to  no  distant  date  when  we  shall  again 
rejoice  to  see  our  churches  clothing  their  walls  with  the  painters'  art,  which 
has  been  too  long  banished  from  them." — The  Archbishop  of  Canterbury 
(Speech  at  Royal  Academy  Banquet,  1903). 


no  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

beauty  of  the  life  around  us,  when  we  look  at  the  art  of  the 
south  in  relation  to  the  life  of  the  south,  and  not  as  an  unvary- 
ing standard.  With  the  beauty  of  our  historic  past,  the 
nobility  of  our  own  heroes  and  martyrs,  the  activities  of  our 
modern  life,  why  should  we  go  elsewhere  for  the  subject- 
matter  of  our  arts  ?  Why  seek  the  decoration  that  blossomed 
in  a  southern  clime,  when  we  have  our  own  flowers  of  the 
field,  our  own  beasts,  birds,  and  butterflies  ?  Why  should  not 
our  churches,  our  town  halls,  our  private  dwellings  more 
generally  bear  the  insignia  or  tell  the  story  of  our  forebears,  or 
mark  by  their  proportions  or  their  architectural  form  the  stern 
and  manly  genius  of  the  race  ?  The  business  of  the  poet  or 
artist  is  to  evoke  beauty  and  order  from  the  life  about  him, 
and  that  he  may  do  so  he  must  perforce  compare  the  art  with 
the  civilisation  of  the  past,  for  national  work  attempted  without 
that  experience  is  apt  to  be  crude  or  parochial.  Greece  exist- 
ing mainly  in  museums,  the  craftsman  must  study  in  Italy ; 
but  always  remembering  the  essential  differences  of  time,  of 
place,  of  conditions,  which  can  only  be  overridden  by  an 
epoch-making  genius  like  that  of  Shakespeare,  who,  universal 
as  he  was,  was  yet  in  the  best  sense  typically  British  too.  If 
there  is  one  lesson  which  Italy  teaches  us,  it  is  that  all  its 
art  is  its  own  ;  with  some  exceptions  of  the  individuality  of 
genius,  we  see  cathedral,  statue,  fresco,  or  portrait  as  the 
immediate  impression  of  the  religious  belief,  the  classic  re- 
search, the  life,  the  civic  ardour  of  Italy  itself.  If  then  Italy 
teaches  us  to  neglect  our  own  country,  its  traditions  and  its 
aspirations,  it  has  taught  us  nothing  at  all.  Marking  with 
admiration  and  gratitude  the  results  the  ItaUans  have  achieved 
in  the  past,  we,  with  a  different  task  to  perform,  may  yet 
endeavour  to  commemorate  the  collective  effort  of  our  nation, 
perhaps  not  in  the  same  way,  but  still  with  the  certainty  that 
Art,  whether  plastic,  pictorial,  or  poetic,  rarely  avails  unless, 
together  with  a  high  standard  of  craftsmanship,  it  expresses 
the  sacred  hopes  and  the  human  sympathies  of  the  race  from 
which  it  springs. 


VENICE    AND    TOWNS    OF    THE 
ADRIATIC 

THE   APPROACH   TO   VENICE 

We  proceeded  over  fertile  mountains  to  Bolsano.  It  was  here 
first  that  I  noticed  the  rocks  cut  into  terraces,  thick  set  with 
melons  and  Indian  corn  ;  fig-trees  and  pomegranates,  hanging 
over  garden  walls,  clustered  with  fruit.  In  the  evening  we 
perceived  several  further  indications  of  approaching  Italy  ;  and 
after  sunset  the  Adige,  rolling  its  full  tide  between  precipices, 
which  looked  terrifying  in  the  dusk.  Myriads  of  fireflies 
sparkled  amongst  the  shrubs  on  the  bank.  I  traced  the 
course  of  these  exotic  insects  by  their  blue  light,  now  rising 
to  the  summits  of  the  trees,  now  sinking  to  the  ground,  and 
associating  with  vulgar  glow-worms.  We  had  opportunities 
enough  to  remark  their  progress,  since  we  travelled  all  night ; 
such  being  my  impatience  to  reach  the  promised  land  ! 

Morning  dawned  just  as  we  saw  Trent  dimly  before 
us.  I  slept  a  few  hours,  then  set  out  again  .  .  .  after  the 
heats  were  in  some  measure  abated ;  and  leaving  Bergine, 
where  the  peasants  were  feasting  before  their  doors,  in  their 
holiday  dresses,  with  red  pinks  stuck  in  their  ears  instead  of 
rings,  and  their  necks  surrounded  with  coral  of  the  same 
colour,  we  came  through  a  woody  valley  to  the  banks  of  a 
lake,  filled  with  the  purest  and  most  transparent  water,  which 
loses  itself  in  shady  creeks,  amongst  hills  entirely  covered  with 
shrubs  and  verdure. 

The  shores  present  one  continual  thicket,  interspersed 
with  knots  of  larches  and  slender  almonds,  starting  from  the 
underwood.  A  cornice  of  rocks  runs  round  the  whole,  except 
where  the  trees  descend  to  the  very  brink,  and  dip  their  boughs 
in  the  water. 

It  was  six  o'clock  when  I  caught  the  sight  of  this  un- 
suspected  lake,   and   the  evening  shadows  stretched    nearly 


112  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

across  it.  Gaining  a  very  rapid  ascent,  we  looked  upon  its 
placid  bosom,  and  saw  several  airy  peaks  rising  above  tufted 
foliage.  I  quitted  the  contemplation  of  them  with  regret, 
and.  in  a  few  hours,  arrived  at  Borgo  di  Volsugano,  the  scene 
of  the  lake  still  present  before  the  eye  of  my  fancy. 

.  .  .  My  heart  beat  quick  when  I  saw  some  hills,  not  very 
distant,  which  I  was  told  lay  in  the  Venetian  State,  and  I 
thought  an  age,  at  least,  had  elapsed  before  we  were  passing 
their  base.  The  road  was  never  formed  to  delight  an  im- 
patient traveller,  loose  pebbles  and  rolling  stones  render  it,  in 
the  highest  degree,  tedious  and  jolting.  I  should  not  have 
spared  my  execration?,  had  it  not  traversed  a  picturesque 
valley,  overgrown  with  juniper,  and  strewed  with  fragments  of 
rock,  precipitated,  long  since,  from  the  surrounding  eminences, 
blooming  with  cyclamens. 

I  clambered  up  several  of  these  crags, 

Fra  gli  odoriferi  ginepri, 

to  gather  the  flowers  I  have  just  mentioned,  and  found  them 
deliciously  scented.  Fratillarias,  and  the  most  gorgeous  flies, 
many  of  which  I  have  noticed  for  the  first  time,  were  flutter- 
ing about  and  expanding  their  wings  to  the  sun.  There  is  no 
describing  the  numbers  I  beheld,  nor  their  gaily  varied  colour- 
ing. I  could  not  find  in  my  heart  to  destroy  their  felicity ;  to 
scatter  their  bright  plumage,  and  snatch  them  for  ever  from 
the  realms  of  light  and  flowers.  Had  I  been  less  compas- 
sionate, I  should  have  gained  credit  with  that  respectable 
corps,  the  torturers  of  butterflies ;  and  might,  perhaps,  have 
enriched  their  cabinets  with  some  unknown  captives.  How- 
ever, I  left  them  imbibing  the  dews  of  heaven,  in  free  posses- 
sion of  their  native  rights ;  and  having  changed  horses  at 
Tremolano,  entered,  at  length,  my  long-desired  Italy. 

The  pass  is  rocky  and  tremendous.  .  .  .  For  two  or  three 
leagues  there  was  little  variation  in  the  scenery ;  cliffs,  nearly 
perpendicular  on  both  sides,  and  the  Brenta  foaming  and 
thundering  below.  Beyond,  the  vines  began  to  be  mantled 
with  vines  and  gardens.  Here  and  there  a  cottage,  with 
shades  of  mulberries,  made  its  appearance ;  and  we  often  dis- 
covered, on  the  banks  of  the  river,  ranges  of  white  buildings, 
with  courts  and  awnings,  beneath  which  numbers  of  women 
and  children  were  employed  in  manufacturing  silk.  As  we 
advanced  the  stream  gradually  widened,  and  the  rocks  receded  ; 
woods  were  more  frequent  and  cottages  thicker  strown. 


^1 


VENICE    AND   TOWNS    OF   THE   ADRIATIC     113 

About  five  in  the  evening  we  left  the  country  of  crags  and 
precipices,  of  mists  and  cataracts,  and  were  entering  the  fertile 
territory  of  the  Bassanese.  It  was  now  I  beheld  groves  of 
olives,  and  vines  clustering  the  summits  of  the  tallest  elms; 
pomegranates  in  every  garden,  and  vases  of  citron  and  orange 
before  almost  every  door.  The  softness  and  transparency  of 
the  air  soon  told  me  I  was  arrived  in  happier  climates,  and  I 
felt  sensations  of  joy  and  novelty  run  through  my  veins,  upon 
beholding  this  smiling  land  of  groves  and  verdure  stretched 
out  before  me.  A  few  hazy  vapours,  I  can  hardly  call  them 
clouds,  rested  upon  the  extremities  of  the  landscape ;  and, 
through  their  medium,  the  sun  cast  an  oblique  and  dewy  ray. 
Peasants  were  returning  home,  singing  as  they  went,  and  call- 
ing to  each  other  over  the  hills ;  whilst  the  women  were  milk- 
ing goats  before  the  wickets  of  the  cottage,  and  preparing  their 
country  fare. 

.  .  .  Our  route  to  Venice  lay  winding  along  the  variegated 
plains  I  had  surveyed  from  Mosolente ;  and  after  dining  at 
Treviso  we  came  in  two  hours  and  a  half  to  Mestre,  between 
grand  villas  and  gardens  peopled  with  statues.  Embarking 
our  baggage  at  the  last  mentioned  place,  we  stepped  into  a 
gondola,  whose  even  motion  was  very  agreeable  after  the  jolts 
of  a  chaise.  We  were  soon  out  of  the  canal  of  Mestre,  termi- 
nating by  an  isle  which  contains  a  cell  dedicated  to  the  Holy 
Virgin,  peeping  out  of  a  thicket,  whence  spire  up  two  tall 
cypresses.  Its  bells  tinkled  as  we  passed  along  and  dropped 
some  paolis  into  a  net  tied  at  the  end  of  a  pole  stretched  out 
to  us  for  that  purpose. 

As  soon  as  we  had  doubled  the  cape  of  this  diminutive 
island,  an  expanse  of  sea  opened  to  our  view,  the  domes  and 
towers  of  Venice  rising  from  its  bosom.  Now  we  began  to 
distinguish  Murano,  St.  Michele,  St.  Giorgio  in  Alga,  and 
several  other  islands,  detached  from  the  grand  cluster,  which 
I  hailed  as  old  acquaintances ;  innumerable  prints  and  draw- 
ings having  long  since  made  their  shapes  familiar.  Still 
gliding  forward,  we  every  moment  distinguished  some  new 
church  or  palace  in  the  city,  suffused  with  the  rays  of  the 
setting  sun,  and  reflected  with  all  their  glow  of  colouring  from 
the  surface  of  the  waters. 

The  air  was  calm  ;  the  sky  cloudless ;  a  faint  wind  just 
breathing  upon  the  deep,  lightly  bore  its  surface  against  the 
steps  of  a  chapel  in  the  island  of  San  Secondo,  and  waved  the 
veil  before  its  portal,  as  we  rowed  by  and  coasted  the  walls  of 

H 


114  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

its  garden  overhung  with  fig-trees  and  surmounted  by  spreading 
pines.  The  convent  discovers  itself  through  their  branches, 
built  in  a  style  somewhat  morisco,  and  level  with  the  sea, 
except  where  the  garden  intervenes. 

We  were  now  drawing  very  near  the  city,  and  a  confused 
hum  began  to  interrupt  the  evening  stillness ;  gondolas  were 
continually  passing  and  repassing,  and  the  entrance  of  the 
Canal  Reggio,  with  all  its  stir  and  bustle,  lay  before  us.  Our 
gondoliers  turned  with  much  address  through  a  crowd  of  boats 
and  barges  that  blocked  up  the  way,  and  rowed  smoothly 
by  the  side  of  a  broad  pavement,  covered  with  people  in  all 
dresses  and  of  all  nations. — Beckford. 


PERSONAL   ACCOUNTS 

Venice  in  the  Seventeenth  Century^ 

'Tis  said  that  when  the  Huns  overran  Italy  some  meane 
fishermen  and  others  left  the  maineland  and  fled  for  shelter  to 
these  despicable  and  muddy  islands,  which  in  processe  of 
time,  by  industry,  are  growne  to  the  greatnesse  of  one  of 
the  most  considerable  States,  considered  as  a  Republic,  and 
having  now  subsisted  longer  than  any  of  the  foure  ancient 
Monarchies,  flourishing  in  greate  state,  wealth,  and  glory,  by 
the  conquest  of  greate  territories  in  Italy,  Dacia,  Greece, 
Candy,  Rhodes,  and  Sclavonia,  and  at  present  challenging  the 
empire  of  all  the  Adriatiq  Sea,  which  they  yearly  espouse  by 
casting  a  gold  ring  into  it  with  greate  pomp  and  ceremony 
on  Ascension  Day  :  the  desire  of  seeing  this  was  one  of  the 
reasons  that  hastened  us  from  Rome. 

The  Doge,  having  heard  masse  in  his  robes  of  state  (which 
are  very  particular,  after  the  Eastern  fashion,)  together  with  the 
Senat  in  their  gownes,  imbark'd  in  their  gloriously  painted, 
carved,  and  gilded  Bucentora,  inviron'd  and  follow'd  by 
innumerable  gallys,  gondolas,  and  boates,  filled  with  spec- 
tators, some  dressed  in  masquerade,  trumpets,  musiq,  and 
canons;  having  rowed  about  a  league  into  the  Gulph,  the 
Duke  at  the  prow  casts  a  gold  ring  and  cup  into  the  Sea,  at 

^  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  Montaigne  says  very  little  about  Venice, 
because,  in  his  words,  "  the  curiosities  of  the  place  are  so  well  known  that 
I  need  not  describe  them."  Thus  we  are  deprived  of  an  authoritative 
sixleenlh-century  account. 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     115 

which  a  loud  acclamation  is  ecchoed  from  the  greate  guns  of 
the  Arsenal  and  at  the  Liddo.     We  then  return'd. 

Two  days  after,  taking  a  gondola,  which  is  their  water- 
coach  (for  land-ones  there  are  many  old  men  in  this  Citty  who 
never  saw  one,  or  rarely  a  horse),  we  rowed  up  and  downe  the 
Channells,  which  answer  to  our  streetes.  These  vessells  are 
built  very  long  and  narrow,  having  necks  and  tailes  of  Steele, 
somewhat  spreading  at  the  beake  like  a  fishe's  taile,  and  kept 
so  exceedingly  polish'd  as  to  give  a  greate  lustre ;  some  are 
adorn'd  with  carving,  others  lined  with  velvet  (commonly 
black),  with  curtains  and  tassells,  and  the  seates  like  couches, 
to  lie  stretch'd  on,  while  he  who  rowes  stands  upright  on  the 
very  edge  of  the  boate,  and  with  one  oare  bending  forward  as 
if  he  would  fall  into  the  Sea,  rows  and  turnes  with  incredible 
dexterity ;  thus  passing  from  channell  to  channell,  landing  his 
fare  or  patron  at  what  house  he  pleases.  The  beakes  of  these 
vessells  are  like  the  ancient  Roman  rostrums. 

The  Rialto  and  Merceria 

The  first  publiq  building  I  went  to  see  was  the  Rialto,  a 
bridge  of  one  arch  over  the  grand  Canall,  so  large  as  to  admit 
a  gaily  to  row  under  it,  built  of  good  marble,  and  having  on  it, 
besides  many  pretty  shops,  three  ample  and  stately  passages 
for  people  without  any  inconvenience,  the  two  outmost  nobly 
balustred  with  the  same  stone ;  a  piece  of  Architecture  much 
to  be  admir'd.  It  was  evening,  and  the  Canall  where  the 
Noblesse  go  to  take  the  air,  as  in  our  Hide-park,  was  full  of 
ladys  and  gentlemen.  There  are  many  times  dangerous  stops 
by  reason  of  the  multitude  of  gondolas  ready  to  sink  one 
another ;  and  indeede  they  affect  to  leane  them  on  one  side, 
that  one  who  is  not  accostom'd  to  it  would  be  afraid  of  over- 
setting. Here  they  were  singing,  playing  on  harpsicords  and 
other  musick,  and  serenading  their  mistresses ;  in  another 
place  racing  and  other  pastimes  upon  the  water,  it  being  now 
exceeding  hot. 

Next  day  I  went  to  their  Exchange,  a  place  like  ours 
frequented  by  merchants,  but  nothing  so  magnificent :  from 
thence  my  guide  led  me  to  the  Fondigo  di  Tedeschi,  which  is 
their  magazine,  and  here  many  of  the  merchants,  especialy 
Germans,  have  their  lodging  and  diet  as  in  a  college.  The 
outside  of  this  stately  fabric  is  painted  by  Giorgione  da 
Castelfranco,  and  Titian  himselfe. 


ii6  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

Hence  I  pass'd  thro'  the  Merceria,  which  is  one  of  the 
most  deHcious  streetes  in  the  world  for  the  sweetnesse  of  it, 
and  is  all  the  way  on  both  sides  tapistred  as  it  were  with 
cloth  of  gold,  rich  damasks  and  other  silks,  which  the  shops 
expose  and  hang  before  their  houses  from  the  first  floore,  and 
with  that  variety  that  for  neere  halfe  the  yeare  spent  cheifly  in 
this  Citty  I  hardly  remember  to  have  seene  the  same  piece 
twice  expos'd  ;  to  this  add  the  perfumes,  apothecaries  shops, 
and  the  innumerable  cages  of  nightingales  which  they  keepe, 
that  entertaine  you  with  their  melody  from  shop  to  shop,  so 
that  shutting  your  eyes  you  would  imagine  yourselfe  in  the 
country,  when  indeede  you  are  in  the  middle  of  the  Sea.  It 
is  almost  as  silent  as  the  middle  of  a  field,  there  being 
neither  rattling  of  coaches  nor  trampling  of  horses.  This 
streete,  pav'd  with  brick  and  exceedingly  cleane,  brought  us 
thro'  an  arch  into  the  famous  Piazza  of  St.  Marc.  .  .  . 

The  Piazza  and  St.  Mark's 

The  buildings  in  this  Piazza  are  all  arch'd,  on  pillars,  pav'd 
within  with  black  and  white  polish'd  marble  even  to  the  shops, 
the  rest  of  the  fabric  as  stately  as  any  in  Europ,  being  not 
only  marble  but  the  architecture  is  of  the  famous  Sansovini, 
who  lies  buried  in  St.  Jacomo  at  the  end  of  the  Piazza.  The 
battlements  of  this  noble  range  of  building  are  rail'd  with 
stone,  and  thick  set  with  excellent  statues,  which  add  a  great 
ornament.  One  of  the  sides  is  yet  much  more  Roman-like 
than  the  other  which  reguards  the  Sea,  and  where  the  Church 
is  plac'd.  The  other  range  is  plainly  Gotiq:  and  so  we  entred 
into  St.  Marc's  Church,  before  which  stand  two  brasse 
piedestals  exquisitely  cast  and  figur'd,  which  beare  as  many 
tall  masts  painted  red,  on  which  upon  greate  festivals  they 
hang  flags  and  streamers.  The  Church  is  also  Gotic  ;  yet  for 
the  preciousnese  of  the  materials  being  of  severall  rich  marbles, 
aboundance  of  porphyrie,  serpentine,  etc.,  far  exceeding  any 
in  Rome,  St.  Peter's  hardly  excepted.  I  much  admired  the 
splendid  historic  of  our  B.  Saviour  compos'd  all  of  Mosaic 
over  the  faciata,  below  which  and  over  the  cheife  gate  are  four 
horses  cast  in  coper  as  big  as  the  life,  the  same  that  formerly 
were  transported  from  Rome  by  Constantine  to  Byzantium, 
and  thence  by  the  Venetians  hither.  They  are  supported  by 
8  porphyrie  columns  of  very  great  size  and  value.  Being 
come  into  the  Church,  you  see  nothing,  and  tread  on  nothing, 


I 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     117 

but  what  is  precious.  Tlie  floore  is  all  inlayed  with  achats, 
lazuli's,  calcedons,  jaspers,  porphyries  and  other  rich  marbles, 
admirable  also  for  the  work  ;  the  walls  sumptuously  incrusted 
and  presenting  to  the  imagination  the  shapes  of  men,  birds, 
houses,  flowers,  and  a  thousand  varieties.  The  roofe  is  of 
most  excellent  Mosaic  ;  but  what  most  persons  admire  is  the 
new  work  of  the  emblematic  tree  at  the  other  passage  out  of 
the  Church.  In  the  midst  of  this  rich  volto  rise  five  cupolas, 
the  middle  very  large  and  sustayn'd  by  36  marble  columns, 
eight  of  which  are  of  precious  marbles  :  under  these  cupolas 
is  the  high  altar,  on  which  is  a  reliquarie  of  severall  sorts  of 
Jewells,  engraven  with  figures  after  the  Greeke  maner,  and  set 
together  with  plates  of  pure  gold.  The  altar  is  cover'd  with  a 
canopy  of  ophit,  on  which  is  sculptur'd  the  storie  of  the  Bible, 
and  so  on  the  pillars,  which  are  of  Parian  marble,  that  support 
it.  Behind  these  are  four  other  columns  of  transparent  and 
true  Oriental  alabaster,  brought  hither  out  of  the  mines  of 
Solomon's  Temple  as  they  report.  There  are  many  chapells 
and  notable  monuments  of  illustrious  persons,  Dukes, 
Cardinals,  etc.,  as  Zeno,  Jo.  Soranzi,  and  others  :  there  is 
likewise  a  vast  baptisterie  of  coper.  Among  other  venerable 
reliques  is  a  stone  on  which  they  say  our  Blessed  Lord  stood 
preaching  to  those  of  Tyre  and  Sidon,  and  neere  the  doore  is 
an  image  of  Christ,  much  ador'd,  esteeming  it  very  sacred,  for 
that  a  rude  fellow  striking  it,  they  say,  there  gush'd  out  a 
torrent  of  blood.  .  .  . 

The  Treasury 

The  next  day,  by  favour  of  the  French  Ambassador,  I  had 
admittance  with  him  to  see  the  Reliquary  call'd  here  Tresoro 
di  San  Marco,  which  very  few  even  of  travellers  are  admitted 
to  see.  It  is  a  large  chamber  full  of  presses.  There  are 
twelve  breast-plates,  or  pieces  of  pure  golden  armour  studded 
with  precious  stones,  and  as  many  crownes  dedicated  to 
St.  Mark  by  so  many  noble  Venetians  who  had  recovered 
their  wives  taken  at  sea  by  the  Saracens  ;  many  curious  vases 
of  achats  ;  the  cap  or  cornet  of  the  Dukes  of  Venice,  one  of 
which  had  a  ruble  set  on  it  esteemed  worth  200,000  crownes ; 
two  unicorns  homes  ;  numerous  vasas  and  dishes  of  achat  set 
thick  with  precious  stones  and  vast  pearles  ;  divers  heads  of 
Saints  inchas'd  in  gold  ;  a  small  ampulla  or  glasse  with  our 
Saviour's  blood  ;  a  greate  morcell  of  the  real  crosse ;  one  of 


n8  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  nailes ;  a  thorn  ;  a  fragment  of  the  column  to  which  our 
Lord  was  bound  when  scourged  ;  the  standard  or  ensigne  of 
Constantine ;  a  piece  of  St.  Luke's  arme;  a  rib  of  St.  Stephen  ; 
a  finger  of  Mary  jNIagdalene  ;  numerous  other  things  which  I 
could  not  remember ;  but  a  priest,  first  vesting  himselfe  in  his 
sacerdotals  with  the  stole  about  his  neck,  shew'd  us  the 
Gospel  of  St.  Mark  (their  tutelar  patron)  written  by  his  own 
hand,  and  whose  body  they  shew  buried  in  the  Church, 
brought  hither  from  Alexandria  many  years  ago,  .  .   . 

The  Venetian  Nobility 

It  was  now  Ascension  Weeke,  and  the  greate  Mart  or 
Faire  of  the  whole  yeare  was  now  kept,  every  body  at  liberty 
and  jollie.  The  noblemen  stalking  with  their  ladys  on 
choppines ;  these  are  high-heel'd  shoes,  particularly  affected 
by  these  proude  dames,  or,  as  some  say,  invented  to  keepe 
them  at  home,  it  being  very  difficult  to  walke  with  them  ; 
whence  one  being  asked  how  he  liked  the  Venetian  dames, 
replied,  that  they  were  inezzo  came,  fnezzo  ligno,  half  flesh, 
half  wood,  and  he  would  have  none  of  them.  The  truth  is, 
their  garb  is  very  odd,  as  seeming  allwayes  in  masquerade  ; 
their  other  habits  are  totally  different  from  all  nations.  They 
weare  very  long  crisped  haire,  of  severall  strakes  and  colours, 
which  they  make  so  by  a  wash,  dischevelling  it  on  the  brims 
of  a  broade  hat  that  has  no  head,  but  an  hole  to  put  out  their 
heads  by  ;  they  drie  them  in  the  sunn,  as  one  may  see  them 
at  their  windows.  In  their  tire  they  set  silk  flowers  and 
sparkling  stones,  their  peticoates  coming  from  their  veryarme- 
pits,  so  that  they  are  neere  three  quarters  and  an  half  apron  ; 
their  sleeves  are  made  exceeding  wide,  under  which  their  shift 
sleeves  as  wide,  and  commonly  tucked  up  to  the  shoulder, 
shewing  their  naked  armes,  thro'  false  sleeves  of  tiffany,  girt 
with  a  bracelet  or  two,  with  knots  of  points  richly  tagged 
about  their  shoulders  and  other  places  of  their  body,  which 
they  usually  cover  with  a  kind  of  yellow  vaile  of  lawn  very 
transparent.  Thus  attir'd  they  set  their  hands  on  the  heads 
of  two  matron-like  servants  or  old  women,  to  support  them, 
who  are  mumbling  their  beades.  'Tis  ridiculous  to  see  how 
these  ladys  crawle  in  and  out  of  their  gondolas  by  reason  of 
their  choppines,  and  what  dwarfs  they  appeare  when  taken 
downe  from  their  wooden  scaffolds  ;  of  these  I  saw  near  thirty 
together,  stalking  half  as  high  again  as  the  rest  of  the  world, 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS    OF   THE    ADRIATIC     119 

for  courtezans  or  the  citizens  may  not  weare  choppi7ies,  but  cover 
their  bodies  and  faces  with  a  vaile  of  a  certaine  glittering 
taffeta  or  lustree,  out  of  which  they  now  and  then  dart  a 
glaunce  of  their  eye,  the  whole  face  being  otherwise  entirely 
hid  with  it  :  nor  may  the  com'on  misses  take  this  habit,  but 
go  abroad  barefac'd.  To  the  corners  of  these  virgin-vailes 
hang  broad  but  flat  tossells  of  curious  Point  de  Venize  ;  the 
married  women  go  in  black  vailes.  The  nobility  weare  the 
same  colour,  but  of  fine  cloth  lin'd  with  taffeta  in  Summer, 
with  fur  of  the  bellies  of  squirrells  in  the  Winter,  which  all 
put  on  at  a  certaine  day  girt  with  a  girdle  emboss'd  with  silver; 
the  vest  not  much  different  from  what  our  Bachelors  of  Arts 
weare  in  Oxford,  and  a  hood  of  cloth  made  like  a  sack,  cast 
over  their  left  shoulder,  and  a  round  cloth  black  cap  fring'd 
with  wool  which  is  not  so  comely  ;  they  also  weare  their 
collar  open  to  shew  the  diamond  button  of  the  stock  of  their 
shirt.  I  have  never  scene  pearle  for  colour  and  bignesse 
comparable  to  what  the  ladys  wear,  most  of  the  noble  families 
being  very  rich  in  Jewells,  especialy  pearles,  which  are  always 
left  to  the  son  or  brother  who  is  destined  to  marry,  which  the 
eldest  seldome  do.  The  Doge's  vest  is  of  crimson  velvet,  the 
Procurator's,  etc.,  of  damasc,  very  stately.  Nor  was  I  lesse 
surprised  with  the  strange  variety  of  the  severall  nations  which 
were  seen  every  day  in  the  streetes  and  piazzas  ;  Jews,  Turks, 
Armenians,  Persians,  Moores,  Greekes,  Sclavonians,  some 
with  their  targets  and  boucklers,  and  all  in  their  native 
fashions,  negotiating  in  this  famous  Emporium,  which  is 
allways  crowded  with  strangers.  .   .  . 

The  Arsenal 

The  Arsenal  is  thought  to  be  one  of  the  best  furnish'd  in 
the  world.  We  entred  by  a  strong  port  always  guarded,  and 
ascending  a  spacious  gallery  saw  armes  of  back,  breast,  and 
head,  for  many  thousands  ;  in  another  were  saddles,  over 
them  ensignes  taken  from  the  Turks.  Another  Hall  is  for  the 
meeting  of  the  Senat ;  passing  a  graff  are  the  smiths  forges, 
where  they  are  continualy  at  work  on  ankers  and  iron  work. 
Neere  it  is  a  well  of  fresh  water,  which  they  impute  to  two 
rhinoceros's  horns  which  they  say  lie  in  it  and  will  preserve  it 
from  ever  being  empoison'd.  Then  we  came  to  where  the 
carpenters  were  building  their  magazines  of  oares,  masts,  etc., 
for  an  hundred  gallys  and  ships,  which  have  all  their  aparell 


I20  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

and  furniture  neere  them.  Then  the  founderie,  where  they 
cast  ordinance  ;  the  forge  is  450  paces  long,  and  one  of  them 
has  thirteen  furnaces.  There  is  one  cannon  weighing  16,573 
lbs.  cast  whilst  Henry  the  Third  dined,  and  put  into  a  gaily 
built,  rigg'd,  and  fitted  for  launching  within  that  time.  They 
have  also  armes  for  12  galeasses,  which  are  vessells  to  rowe,  of 
almost  150  foote  long  and  30  wide,  not  counting  prow  or 
poop,  and  contain  28  banks  of  oares,  each  7  men,  and  to 
carry  1300  men,  with  3  masts.  In  another  a  magazin  for  50 
gallys,  and  place  for  some  hundreds  more.  Here  stands  the 
Eucentaur,  with  a  most  ample  deck,  and  so  contriv'd  that  the 
slaves  are  not  scene,  having  on  the  poop  a  throne  for  the 
Doge  to  sit,  when  he  gos  in  triumph  to  espouse  the  Adriatic. 
Here  is  also  a  gallery  of  200  yards  long  for  cables,  and  over 
that  a  magazine  of  hemp. — Evelyn. 

Venice  in  the  Eighteenth  Century 

The  rooms  of  our  hotel  are  spacious  and  cheerful ;  a  lofty 
hall,  or  rather  gallery,  painted  with  grotesque  in  a  very  good 
style,  perfectly  clean,  floored  with  a  marbled  stucco,  divides 
the  house  and  admits  a  refreshing  current  of  air.  Several 
windows  near  the  ceiling  look  into  this  vast  apartment,  which 
serves  in  lieu  of  a  court,  and  is  rendered  perfectly  luminous 
by  a  glazed  arcade,  thrown  open  to  catch  the  breezes. 
Through  it  I  passed  to  a  balcony  which  impends  over  the 
canal,  and  is  twined  round  with  plants  forming  a  green 
festoon  springing  from  two  large  vases  of  orange  trees  placed 
at  each  end.  Here  I  established  myself  to  enjoy  the  cool, 
and  observe,  as  well  as  the  dusk  would  permit,  the  variety  of 
figures  shooting  by  in  their  gondolas.  As  night  approached, 
innumerable  tapers  glimmered  through  the  awnings  before 
the  windows.  Every  boat  had  its  lantern,  and  the  gondolas 
moving  rapidly  along  were  followed  by  tracks  of  light,  which 
gleamed  and  played  upon  the  waters.  I  was  gazing  at  these 
dancing  fires  when  the  sounds  of  music  were  wafted  along 
the  canals,  and  as  they  grew  louder  and  louder,  an  illuminated 
barge,  filled  with  musicians,  issued  from  the  Rialto,  and 
stopping  under  one  of  the  palaces,  began  a  serenade,  which 
stilled  every  clamour  and  suspended  all  conversation  in  the 
galleries  and  porticos ;  till,  rowing  slowly  away,  it  was  heard 
no  more.  The  gondoliers  catching  the  air,  imitated  its 
cadences,  and  were  answered  by  others  at  a  distance,  whose 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     121 

voices,  echoed  by  the  arch!  of  the  bridge,  acquired  a  plaintive 
and  interesting  tone.  I  retired  to  rest,  full  of  the  sound,  and 
long  after  I  was  asleep,  the  melody  seemed  to  vibrate  in  my 
brain. 

The  Grand  Canal 

It  was  not  five  o'clock  before  I  was  aroused  by  a  loud  din 
of  voices  and  splashing  of  water  under  my  balcony.  Looking 
out,  I  beheld  the  grand  canal  so  entirely  covered  with  fruits 
and  vegetables,  on  rafts  and  in  barges,  that  I  could  scarcely 
distinguish  a  wave.  Loads  of  grapes,  peaches,  and  melons 
arrived,  and  disappeared  in  an  instant,  for  every  vessel  was  in 
motion ;  and  the  crowds  of  purchasers  hurrying  from  boat 
to  boat,  formed  one  of  the  liveliest  pictures  imaginable. 
Amongst  the  multitudes,  I  remarked  a  good  many  whose 
dress  and  carriage  announced  something  above  the  common 
rank ;  and  upon  inquiry  I  found  they  were  noble  Venetians, 
just  come  from  their  casinos,  and  met  to  refresh  themselves 
with  fruit,  before  they  retired  to  sleep  for  the  day. 

Whilst  I  was  observing  them,  the  sun  began  to  colour  the 
balustrades  of  the  palaces,  and  the  pure  exhilarating  air  of  the 
morning  drawing  me  abroad,  I  procured  a  gondola,  laid  in 
my  provision  of  bread  and  grapes,  and  was  rowed  under  the 
Rialto,  down  the  grand  canal,  to  the  marble  steps  of  S.  Maria 
della  Salute,  erected  by  the  Senate  in  performance  of  a  vow 
to  the  Holy  Virgin,  who  begged  off  a  terrible  pestilence  in 
1630.  I  gazed,  delighted  with  its  superb  frontispiece  and 
dome,  relieved  by  a  clear  blue  sky.  To  criticise  columns  or 
pediments  of  the  different  fagades,  would  be  time  lost ;  since 
one  glance  upon  the  worst  view  that  has  been  taken  of  them, 
conveys  a  far  better  idea  than  the  most  elaborate  description. 
The  great  bronze  portal  opened  whilst  I  was  standing  on  the 
steps  which  lead  to  it,  and  discovered  the  interior  of  the 
dome,  where  1  expatiated  in  solitude  ;  no  mortal  appearing 
except  an  old  priest  who  trimmed  the  lamps,  and  muttered 
a  prayer  before  the  high  altar,  still  wrapped  in  shadows.  The 
sunbeams  began  to  strike  against  the  windows  of  the  cupola 
just  as  I  left  the  church,  and  was  wafted  across  the  waves  to 
the  spacious  platform  in  front  of  St.  Giorgio  Maggiore,  by  far 
the  most  perfect  and  beautiful  edifice  my  eyes  ever  beheld. 

When  my  first  transport  was  a  little  subsided,  and  I  had 
examined  the  graceful  design  of  each  particular  ornament, 
and  united  the  just  proportion  and  grand  effect  of  the  whole 


122  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

in  my  mind,  I  planted  my  umbrella  on  the  margin  of  the  sea, 
and  reclining  under  its  shade,  my  feet  dangling  over  the 
waters,  viewed  the  vast  range  of  palaces,  of  porticos,  of 
towers,  opening  on  every  side  and  extending  out  of  sight. 
The  Doge's  residence  and  the  tall  columns  at  the  entrance 
of  the  place  of  St.  Mark,  form,  together  with  the  arcades  of 
the  public  library,  the  lofty  Campanile  and  the  cupolas  of  the 
ducal  church,  one  of  the  most  striking  groups  of  buildings 
that  art  can  boast  of.  To  behold  at  one  glance  tiiese  stately 
fabrics,  so  illustrious  in  the  records  of  former  ages,  before 
which,  in  the  flourishing  times  of  the  republic,  so  many 
valiant  chiefs  and  princes  have  landed,  loaded  with  the  spoils 
of  different  nations,  was  a  spectacle  I  had  long  and  ardently 
desired.  1  thought  of  the  days  of  Frederic  Barbarossa,  when 
looking  up  the  piazza  of  St.  Mark,  along  which  he  marched 
in  solemn  procession,  to  cast  himself  at  the  feet  of  Alexander 
the  Third,  and  pay  a  tardy  homage  to  St.  Peter's  successor. 
Here  were  no  longer  those  splendid  fleets  that  attended  his 
progress ;  one  solitary  galeass  was  all  I  beheld,  anchored 
opposite  the  palace  of  the  Doge,  and  surrounded  by  crowds 
of  gondolas,  whose  sable  hues  contrasted  strongly  with  its 
vermilion  oars  and  shining  ornaments.  A  party-coloured 
multitude  was  continually  shifting  from  one  side  of  the  piazza 
to  the  other ;  whilst  senators  and  magistrates  in  long  black 
robes  were  already  arriving  to  fill  their  respective  charges. 

I  contemplated  the  busy  scene  from  my  peaceful  platform, 
where  nothing  stirred  but  aged  devotees  creeping  to  their 
devotions ;  and,  whilst  I  remained  thus  calm  and  tranquil, 
heard  the  distant  buzz  and  rumour  of  the  town.  Fortunately 
a  length  of  waves  rolled  between  me  and  its  tumults ;  so  that 
I  ate  my  grapes,  and  read  Metastasio,  undisturbed  by  ofificious- 
ness  or  curiosity.  When  the  sun  became  too  powerful,  I 
entered  the  nave,  and  applauded  the  genius  of  Palladio.  .  .  . 

An  Excursion 

It  was  midday,  and  I  begged  to  be  rowed  to  some  woody 
island,  where  I  might  dine  in  shade  and  tranquillity.  My 
gondoliers  shot  off  in  an  instant;  but,  though  they  went  at 
a  very  rapid  rate,  I  wished  to  fly  faster,  and  getting  into  a 
bark  with  six  oars,  swept  along  the  waters,  soon  left  the  Zecca 
and  San  Marco  behind ;  and,  launching  into  the  plains  of 
shining  sea,  saw  turret  after  turret,  and  isle  after  isle,  fleeting 


VENICE   AND    TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     123 

before  me.  A  pale  greenish  light  ran  along  the  shores  of  the 
distant  continent,  whose  mountains  seemed  to  catch  the 
motion  of  my  boat,  and  to  fly  with  equal  celerity. 

I  had  not  much  time  to  contemplate  the  beautiful  effects 
on  the  waters — the  emerald  and  purple  hues  which  gleamed 
along  their  surface.  Our  prow  struck,  foaming,  against  the 
walls  of  the  Carthusian  garden,  before  I  recollected  where  I 
was,  or  could  look  attentively  around  me.  Permission  being 
obtained,  I  entered  this  cool  retirement,  and  putting  aside 
with  my  hands  the  boughs  of  fig-trees  and  pomegranates, 
got  under  an  ancient  bay,  near  which  several  tall  pines  lift 
themselves  up  to  the  breezes.  I  listened  to  the  conversation 
they  held,  with  a  wind  just  flown  from  Greece,  and  charged, 
as  well  as  I  could  understand  this  airy  language,  with  many 
affectionate  remembrances  from  their  relations  on  Mount  Ida. 

I  reposed  amidst  bay  leaves,  fanned  by  a  constant  air,  till 
it  pleased  the  fathers  to  send  me  some  provisions,  with  a 
basket  of  fruit  and  wine.  Two  of  them  would  wait  upon 
me,  and  ask  ten  thousand  questions.  ...  I,  who  was  deeply 
engaged  with  the  winds,  and  fancied  myself  hearing  these 
rapid  travellers  relate  their  adventures,  wished  my  inter- 
rogators in  purgatory,  and  pleaded  ignorance  of  the  Italian 
language.  This  circumstance  extricated  me  from  my  diffi- 
culties, and  procured  me  a  long  interval  of  repose. 

The  rustling  of  the  pines  had  the  same  effect  as  the  mur- 
murs of  other  old  story-tellers,  and  I  slept  undisturbed  till  the 
people  without,  in  the  boat  (who  wondered  not  a  little,  1  dare 
say,  what  the  deuce  was  become  of  me  within),  began  a  sort  of 
chorus  in  parts,  full  of  such  plaintive  modulation,  that  I  still 
thought  myself  under  the  influence  of  a  dream,  and,  half  in 
this  world  and  half  in  the  other,  believed,  like  the  heroes  of 
Fingal,  that  I  had  caught  the  music  of  the  spirits  of  the  hill. 

When  I  was  thoroughly  convinced  of  the  reality  of  these 
sounds,  I  moved  towards  the  shore  from  whence  they  pro- 
ceeded :  a  glassy  sea  lay  full  before  me ;  no  gale  ruffled  the  ex- 
panse ;  every  breath  was  subsided,  and  I  beheld  the  sun  go 
down  in  all  its  sacred  calm.  You  have  experienced  the  sen- 
sations this  moment  inspires ;  imagine  what  they  must  have 
been  in  such  a  scene,  and  accompanied  with  a  melody  so 
simple  and  pathetic.  I  stepped  into  my  boat,  and  instead  of 
encouraging  the  speed  of  the  gondoliers,  begged  them  to 
abate  their  ardour,  and  row  me  lazily  home.  They  complied, 
and  we  were  near  an  hour  reaching  the  platform  before  the 
ducal  palace.  .  .  . 


124  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


The  Piazza 

I  looked  a  moment  at  the  four  stately  coursers  of  bronze 
and  gold  that  adorn  the  chief  portal,  and  then  took  in  at  one 
glance  the  whole  extent  of  the  piazza,  with  its  towers  and 
standards.  A  more  noble  assemblage  was  never  exhibited 
by  architecture.  I  envied  the  good  fortune  of  Petrarch,  who 
describes,  in  one  of  his  letters,  a  tournament  held  in  this 
princely  opening.  Many  are  the  festivals  which  have  been 
here  celebrated.  When  Henry  the  Third  left  Poland  to  mount 
the  throne  of  France,  he  passed  through  Venice,  and  found 
the  Senate  waiting  to  receive  him  in  their  famous  square, 
which  by  means  of  an  awning  stretched  from  the  balustrades 
of  opposite  palaces,  was  metamorphosed  into  a  vast  saloon, 
sparkling  with  artificial  stars,  and  spread  with  the  richest  car- 
pets of  the  East.  .  .  .  Having  enjoyed  the  general  perspective 
of  the  piazza,  I  began  to  enter  into  particulars,  and  examine 
the  bronze  pedestals  of  the  three  standards  before  the  great 
church,  designed  by  Sansovino  in  the  true  spirit  of  the  antique, 
and  covered  with  relievos,  at  once  bold  and  elegant.  It  is 
also  to  this  celebrated  architect  we  are  indebted  for  the  stately 
fagade  of  the  Procuratie  nuove,  which  forms  one  side  of  the 
square,  and  presents  an  uninterrupted  series  of  arcades  and 
marble  columns  exquisitely  wrought.  Opposite  this  mag- 
nificent range  appears  another  line  of  palaces,  whose  archi- 
tecture, though  far  removed  from  the  Grecian  elegance  of 
Sansovino,  impresses  veneration,  and  completes  the  pomp  of 
the  view. 

There  is  something  strange  and  singular  in  the  Tower  or 
Campanile,  which  rises  distinct  from  the  smooth  pavement  of 
the  square,  a  little  to  the  left  as  you  stand  before  the  chief 
entrance  of  St.  Mark's.^  The  design  is  barbarous  and  termi- 
nates in  uncouth  and  heavy  pyramids ;  yet  in  spite  of  these 
defects  it  struck  me  with  awe.  A  beautiful  building  called 
the  Logetta,  and  which  serves  as  a  guard-house  during  the 
convocation  of  the  Grand  Council,  decorates  its  base.  Nothing 
can  be  more  enriched,  more  finished  than  this  structure  ;  which, 
though  far  from  diminutive,  is  in  a  manner  lost  at  the  foot  of 

'  Beckford  means  "with  your  back  to  the  chief  entrance."  The  pas- 
sage that  follows  is,  when  we  consider  the  recent  fall  of  the  Campanile,  a 
strangely  mistaken  prophecy  ;  but  Beckford  was  no  judge  of  towers,  for 
the  vast  one  he  erected  at  Fonthill  fell  down  too. 


VENICE    AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     125 

the  Campanile.  This  enormous  fabric  seems  to  promise  a 
long  duration,  and  will  probably  exhibit  St.  Mark  and  his 
Lion  to  the  latest  posterity.  Both  appear  in  great  state 
towards  its  summit,  and  have  nothing  superior,  but  an  arch- 
angel perched  on  the  highest  pinnacle,  and  pointing  to  the 
skies.  The  dusk  prevented  my  remarking  the  various  sculp- 
tures with  which  the  Logetta  is  crowded. 

Crossing  the  ample  space  between  this  graceful  edifice  and 
the  ducal  palace,  I  passed  through  a  labyrinth  of  pillars  and 
entered  the  principal  court,  of  which  nothing  but  the  great 
outline  was  visible  at  so  late  an  hour.  Two  reservoirs  of 
bronze,  richly  sculptured,  diversify  the  area.  In  front  a  mag- 
nificent flight  of  steps  presents  itself,  by  which  the  senators 
ascend  through  vast  and  solemn  corridors,  which  lead  to  the  in- 
terior of  the  edifice.  .  .  .  The  various  portals,  the  strange 
projections ;  in  short,  the  stately  irregularities  of  these  stately 
piles  delighted  me  beyond  idea.  .  .  .  This  fit  of  enthusiasm 
was  hardly  subsided,  when  I  passed  the  gates  of  the  palace 
into  the  great  square,  which  received  a  faint  gleam  from  its 
casinos  and  palaces,  just  beginning  to  be  lighted  up,  and  to 
become  the  resort  of  pleasure  and  dissipation.  Numbers  were 
walking  in  parties  upon  the  pavement ;  some  sought  the  con- 
venient gloom  of  the  porticos  with  their  favourites ;  others 
were  earnestly  engaged  in  conversation,  and  filled  the  gay  illu- 
minated apartments,  where  they  resorted  to  drink  coffee  and 
sorbet  with  laughter  and  merriment.  A  thoughtless,  giddy 
transport  prevailed ;  for,  at  this  hour,  anything  like  restraint 
seems  perfectly  out  of  the  question ;  and  however  solemn  a 
magistrate  or  senator  may  appear  in  the  day,  at  night  he  lays 
up  wig  and  robe  and  gravity  to  sleep  together,  runs  intriguing 
about  in  his  gondola,  takes  the  reigning  sultana  under  his  arm, 
and  so  rambles  half  over  the  town,  which  grows  gayer  and 
gayer  as  the  day  declines. 

The  Council  of  Ten 

.  .  .  This  is  the  tribunal  which  holds  the  wealthy  nobility  in 
continual  awe ;  before  which  they  appear  with  trembling  and 
terror,  and  whose  summons  they  dare  not  disobey.  Some- 
times, by  way  of  clemency,  it  condemns  its  victims  to  perpetual 
imprisonment,  in  close,  stifling  cells,  between  the  leads  and 
beams  of  the  palace ;  or,  unwilling  to  spill  the  blood  of  a 
fellow-citizen,  generally  sinks  them  into  dungeons,  deep  under 


126  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  canals  which  wash  its  foundations ;  so  that,  above  and 
below,  its  majesty  is  contaminated  by  the  abodes  of  punish- 
ment. What  other  sovereign  could  endure  the  idea  of  having 
his  immediate  residence  polluted  with  tears  ?  or  revel  in  his 
halls,  conscious  that  many  of  his  species  were  consuming  their 
hours  in  lamentations  above  his  head,  and  that  but  a  few- 
beams  separated  him  from  the  scene  of  their  tortures  ?  How- 
ever gaily  disposed,  could  one  dance  with  pleasure  on  a  pave- 
ment, beneath  which  lie  damp  and  gloomy  caverns,  whose 
inhabitants  waste  away  by  painful  degrees,  and  feel  themselves 
whole  years  a-dying?  .  .  .  Abandoning  .  .  .  the  sad  tenants 
of  the  piombi  to  their  fate,  I  left  the  courts,  and  stepping  into 
my  bark  was  rowed  down  a  canal  overshadowed  by  the  lofty 
walls  of  the  palace.  Beneath  these  fatal  waters  the  dungeons 
I  have  also  been  speaking  of  are  situated.  There  the  wretches 
lie  marking  the  sound  of  the  oars,  and  counting  the  free 
passage  of  every  gondola,  x^bove,  a  marble  bridge,  of  bold 
majestic  architecture,  joins  the  highest  part  of  the  prisons  to 
the  secret  galleries  of  the  palace  ;  from  whence  criminals  are 
conducted  over  the  arch  to  a  cruel  and  mysterious  death.  I 
shuddered  whilst  passing  below  ;  and  believe  it  is  not  without 
cause,  this  structure  is  named  Potite  dei  Sospiri.  Horrors  and 
dismal  prospects  haunted  my  fancy  upon  my  return.  I  could 
not  dine  in  peace,  so  strongly  was  my  imagination  affected ; 
but,  snatching  my  pencil,  I  drew  chasms  and  subterraneous 
hollows,  the  domain  of  fear  and  torture,  with  chains,  racks, 
wheels,  and  dreadful  engines  in  the  style  of  Piranesi.^  .  .  . 

The  Islands 

I  am  just  returned  from  visiting  the  isles  of  Murano,^ 
Torcello,  and  Mazorbo,  distant  about  five  miles  from  Venice. 
To  these  amphibious  spots  the  Romans,  inhabitants  of  eastern 

^  This  passage  is  characteristic  as  showing  the  sensations  sought  in 
Venice  after  Horace  Walpole  had  started  romance  with  the  "  Castle  of 
Otranto."  Ruskin  has  rightly  warned  us  that  "Venice  of  modern  fiction 
and  drama  is  a  thing  of  yesterday,"  and  that  "  no  great  merchant  ever  saw 
that  Rialto  under  which  the  traveller  now  passes  with  breathless  interest." 
Ruskin,  however,  omits  to  add  that  there  was  an  earlier  Rialto. 

^  Evelyn  likewise  went  to  Murano,  which  he  calls  even  then  "famous 
for  the  best  glasses  of  the  world.  .  .  .  'Tis  the  white  flints  which  they 
have  from  Pavia,  which  they  pound  and  sift  exceedingly  small  and  mix 
with  ashes  made  of  a  sea-weed  brought  out  of  Styria,  and  a  white_  sand, 
that  causes  this  manufacture  to  excell." 


VENICE    AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     127 

Lombardy,  fled  from  the  rapine  of  Attila  ;  and,  if  we  may 
believe  Cassiodorus,  there  was  a  time  when  they  presented 
a  beautiful  appearance.  Beyond  them,  on  the  coast  of  the 
Lagunes,  rose  the  once  populous  city  of  Altina,  with  its  six 
stately  gates,  which  Dandolo  mentions.  Its  neighbourhood 
was  scattered  with  innumerable  villas  and  temples,  composing 
altogether  a  prospect  which  Martial  compares  to  Baise : 

'Simula  Baiunis  Altini  littora  villis." 

But  this  agreeable  scene,  like  so  many  others,  is  passed 
entirely  away,  and  has  left  nothing,  except  heaps  of  stones 
and  mis-shapen  fragments,  to  vouch  for  its  former  magnificence. 
Two  of  the  islands,  Costanziaco  and  Amiano,  that  are  imagined 
to  have  contained  the  bowers  and  gardens  of  the  Altinatians, 
have  sunk  beneath  the  waters  ;  those  which  remain  are  scarcely 
worthy  to  rise  above  their  surface. 

Though  I  was  persuaded  little  was  left  to  be  seen  above 
ground,  I  could  not  deny  myself  the  imaginary  pleasure  of 
treading  a  corner  of  the  earth  once  so  adorned  and  cultivated; 
and  of  walking  over  the  roofs,  perhaps,  of  concealed  halls  and 
undiscovered  palaces.  Hiring  therefore  a  peiotte,  we  took 
some  provisions  and  music  (to  us  equally  necessaries  of  life), 
and  launched  into  the  canal,  between  St.  Michael  and  Murano. 

The  waves  coursed  each  other  with  violence,  and  dark 
clouds  hung  over  the  grand  sweep  of  northern  mountains, 
whilst  the  west  smiled  with  azure  and  bright  sunshine. 
Thunder  rolled  awfully  at  a  distance,  and  those  white  and 
greyish  birds,  the  harbingers  of  storms,  flitted  frequently 
before  our  bark.  For  some  moments  we  were  in  doubt 
whether  to  proceed  ;  but  as  we  advanced  by  a  little  dome  in 
the  Isle  of  St.  Michael,  shaped  like  an  ancient  temple,  the 
sky  cleared,  and  the  ocean  subsiding  by  degrees,  soon  pre- 
sented a  tranquil  expanse,  across  which  we  were  smoothly 
wafted.  Our  instruments  played  several  delightful  airs,  that 
called  forth  the  inhabitants  of  every  island,  and  held  them 
silent,  as  if  spell-bound,  on  the  edge  of  their  quays  and 
terraces,  till  we  were  out  of  hearing. 

Leaving  Murano  far  behind,  Venice  and  its  world  of 
turrets  began  to  sink  on  the  horizon,  and  the  low  desert  isles 
beyond  Mazorbo  to  lie  stretched  out  before  us.  Now  we 
behold  vast  wastes  of  purple  flowers,  and  could  distinguish 
the  low  hum  of  the  insects  which  hover  above  them ;  such 


128  THE    BOOK   OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

was  the  silence  of  the  place.  Coasting  these  solitary  fields, 
we  wound  amongst  several  serpentine  canals,  bordered  by 
gardens  of  figs  and  pomegranates,  with  neat  Indian-looking 
inclosures  of  cane  and  reed  :  an  aromatic  plant  clothes  the 
margin  of  the  waters,  which  the  people  justly  dignify  with  the 
title  of  marine  incense.  It  proved  very  serviceable  in  subdu- 
ing a  musky  odour,  which  attacked  us  the  moment  we  landed, 
and  which  proceeds  from  serpents  that  lurk  in  the  hedges. 
These  animals,  say  the  gondoliers,  defend  immense  treasures 
which  lie  buried  under  the  ruins.  Woe  to  those  who  attempt 
invading  them,  or  prying  too  cautiously  about ! 

Not  choosing  to  be  devoured,  we  left  many  a  mount  of 
fragments  unnoticed,  and  made  the  best  of  our  way  to  a  little 
green,  free  from  weeds  or  adders,  bounded  on  one  side  by  a 
miserable  shed,  decorated  with  the  name  of  the  Podesta's 
residence,  and  on  the  other  by  a  circular  church.  Some 
remains  of  tolerable  antique  sculpture  are  enchased  in  the 
walls  ;  and  the  dome,  supported  by  pillars  of  a  smooth  Grecian 
marble,  though  uncouth  and  ill-proportioned,  impresses  a  sort 
of  veneration,  and  transports  the  fancy  to  the  twilight  glimmer- 
ing period  when  it  was  raised. 

Having  surveyed  what  little  was  visible,  and  given  as  much 
career  to  our  imaginations  as  the  scene  inspired,  we  walked 
over  a  soil  composed  of  crumbling  bricks  and  cement  to 
the  cathedral ;  whose  arches,  turned  on  the  ancient  Roman 
principle,  convinced  us  that  it  dates  as  high  as  the  sixth  or 
seventh  century. 

Nothing  can  be  well  more  fantastic  than  the  ornaments 
of  this  structure,  formed  from  the  ruins  of  the  Pagan  temples 
of  Altina,  and  incrusted  with  a  gilt  mosaic,  like  that  which 
covers  our  Edward  the  Confessor's  tomb.  The  pavement, 
composed  of  various  precious  marbles,  is  richer  and  more 
beautiful  than  one  could  have  expected,  in  a  place  where 
every  other  object  savours  of  the  grossest  barbarism.  At  the 
farther  end,  beyond  the  altar,  appears  a  semicircular  niche, 
with  seats  like  the  gradines  of  a  diminutive  amphitheatre  ; 
above  rise  the  quaint  forms  of  the  apostles,  in  red,  blue,  green, 
and  black  mosaic,  and  in  the  midst  of  the  goodly  group  a 
sort  of  marble  chair,  cool  and  penitential  enough,  where  St. 
Lorenzo  Giustiniani  sat  to  hold  a  provincial  council,  the  Lord 
knows  how  long  ago  !  The  fount  for  holy  water  stands  by 
the  principal  entrance,  fronting  this  curious  recess,  and  seems 
to  have  belonged  to  some  place  of  (jcntile  worship.     The 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF  THE   ADRIATIC     129 

figures  of  horned  imps  cling  round  its  sides,  more  devilish, 
more  Egyptian,  than  any  I  ever  beheld.^  The  dragons  on  old 
china  are  not  more  whimsical:  I  longed  to  have  it  filled  with 
bats'  blood,  and  to  have  sent  it  by  way  of  present  to  the 
Sabbath ;  I  can  assure  you  it  would  have  done  honour  to  their 
witcheries.  The  sculpture  is  not  the  most  delicate,  but  I 
cannot  say  a  great  deal  about  it,  as  but  little  light  reaches  the 
spot  where  it  is  fixed.  Indeed,  the  whole  church  is  far  from 
luminous,  its  windows  being  narrow  and  near  the  roof,  with 
shutters  composed  of  blocks  of  marble,  which  nothing  but 
the  last  whirlwind,  one  should  think,  could  move  from  their 
hinges. 

By  the  time  we  had  examined  every  nook  and  corner  of 
this  singular  edifice,  and  caught  perhaps  some  small  portion 
of  sanctity  by  sitting  in  San  Lorenzo's  chair,  dinner  was  pre- 
pared in  a  neighbouring  convent,  and  the  nuns,  allured  by  the 
sound  of  our  flutes  and  oboes,  peeped  out  of  their  cells  and 
showed  themselves  by  dozens  at  the  grate.  Some  few  agree- 
able faces  and  interesting  eyes  enlivened  the  dark  sisterhood  ; 
all  seemed  to  catch  a  gleam  of  pleasure  from  the  music  ;  two 
or  three  of  them,  probably  the  last  immured,  let  fall  a  tear, 
and  suffered  the  recollection  of  the  world  and  its  profane  joys 
to  interrupt  for  a  moment  their  sacred  tranquillity. 

We  stayed  till  the  sun  was  low,  and  the  breezes  blew  cool 
from  the  ocean,  on  purpose  that  they  might  listen  as  long  as 
possible  to  a  harmony  which  seemed  to  issue,  as  the  old 
abbess  expressed  herself,  from  the  gates  of  paradise  ajar.  A 
thousand  benedictions  consecrated  our  departure ;  twilight 
came  on  just  as  we  entered  the  bark  and  rowed  out  upon  the 
waves,  agitated  by  a  fresh  gale,  but  fearing  nothing  under  the 
protection  of  St.  Margherita,  whose  good  wishes  our  music 
had  secured. — Beckford. 

Thoughts  from  Goethe 

It  was  for  no  idle  fancy  that  this  race  fled  to  these  islands ; 
it  was  no  mere  whim  which  impelled  those  who  followed  to 
combine  with  them ;  necessity  taught  them  to  look  for  security 

1  The  question  of  the  origin  of  this  Byzantine  decoration  at  Torcello  is 
a  difficult  one.  The  period — which  Beckford  states  correctly  as  being  the 
seventh  century — is  too  early  for  Longobardic  influences,  and  the  spirit 
(apart  from  the  execution)  of  the  work  is  not  Byzantine.  For  theories 
thereon  see  Leader  Scott  {Cathedral Buildev!,  p.  73,  2nd  ed.). 

I 


]3o  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

in  a  highly  disadvantageous  situation,  that  afterwards  became 
most  advantageous,  enduing  them  with  talent,  when  the  whole 
northern  world  was  immersed  in  gloom.  Their  increase  and 
their  wealth  were  a  necessary  consequence.  New  dwellings 
arose  close  against  dwellings,  rocks  took  the  place  of  sand 
and  marsh,  houses  sought  the  sky,  being  forced  like  trees 
inclosed  in  a  narrow  compass,  to  seek  in  height  what  was 
denied  them  in  breadth.  Being  niggards  of  every  inch  of 
ground,  as  having  been  from  the  very  first  compressed  into  a 
narrow  compass,  they  allowed  no  more  room  for  the  streets 
than  was  just  necessary  to  separate  a  row  of  houses  from  the 
one  opposite,  and  to  afford  the  citizens  a  narrow  passage. 
Moreover,  water  supplied  the  place  of  street,  square,  and 
promenade.  The  Venetian  was  forced  to  become  a  new 
creature ;  and  thus  Venice  can  only  be  compared  with  itself. 
The  large  canal,  winding  like  a  serpent,  yields  to  no  street  in 
the  world,  and  nothing  can  be  put  by  the  side  of  the  space  in 
front  of  St.  Mark's  Square — I  mean  that  great  mirror  of  water, 
which  is  encompassed  by  Venice  Proper,  in  the  form  of  a 
crescent.  .  .  . 

I  seated  myself  in  a  gondola,  and  went  along  the  northern 
part  of  the  grand  canal,  into  the  lagunes,  and  then  entered  the 
Canal  della  Giudecca,  going  as  far  as  the  square  of  St.  Mark. 
Now  was  I  also  one  of  the  birds  of  the  Adriatic  sea,  as  every 
Venetian  feels  himself  to  be,  whilst  reclining  in  his  gondola.  I 
then  thought  with  due  honour  of  my  good  father,  who  knew  of 
nothing  better  than  to  talk  about  the  things  I  now  witnessed. 
And  will  it  not  be  so  with  me  likewise?  All  that  surrounds 
me  is  dignified — a  grand  venerable  work  of  combined  human 
energies,  a  noble  monument,  not  of  a  ruler,  but  of  a  people. 
And  if  their  lagunes  are  gradually  filling  up,  if  unwholesome 
vapours  are  floating  over  the  marsh,  if  their  trade  is  declining 
and  their  power  has  sunk,  still  the  great  place  and  the 
essential  character  will  not  for  a  moment  be  less  venerable  to 
the  observer.  Venice  succumbs  to  time,  like  everything  that 
has  a  phenomenal  existence.  .  .   . 

I  ascended  the  tower  of  St.  Mark's :  as  I  had  lately  seen 
from  its  top  the  lagunes  in  their  glory  at  flood  time,  I  wished 
also  to  see  them  at  low  water ;  for  in  order  to  have  a  correct 
idea  of  the  place,  it  is  necessary  to  take  in  both  views.     It 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF  THE   ADRIATIC     131 

looks  rather  strange  to  see  land  all  around  one,  where  a  little 
before  the  eye  fell  upon  a  mirror  of  waters.  The  islands  are 
no  longer  islands — merely  higher  and  house-crowned  spots  in 
one  large  morass  of  a  gray-greenish  colour,  and  intersected  by 
beautiful  canals.  The  marshy  parts  are  overgrown  with 
aquatic  plants.  .  .  . 

My  old  gift  of  seeing  the  world  with  the  eyes  of  that  artist, 
whose  pictures  have  most  recently  made  an  impression  on  me, 
has  occasioned  me  some  peculiar  reflections.  It  is  evident 
that  the  eye  forms  itself  by  the  objects,  which,  from  youth 
upward,  it  is  accustomed  to  look  upon,  and  so  the  Venetian 
artist  must  see  all  things  in  a  clearer  and  brighter  light  than 
other  men.  We,  whose  eye  when  out  of  doors  falls  on  a 
dingy  soil,  which,  when  not  muddy,  is  dusty,  and  which, 
always  colourless,  gives  a  sombre  hue  to  the  reflected  rays,  or 
at  home  spend  our  lives  in  close,  narrow  rooms,  can  never 
attain  to  such  a  cheerful  view  of  nature.  As  I  floated  down 
the  lagoons  in  the  full  sunshine,^  and  observed  how  the 
figures  of  the  gondoliers  stood  out  from  the  bright  green 
surface  and  against  the  blue  sky,  as  they  rowed  lightly  swaying 
above  the  sides  of  the  gondola,  I  caught  the  best  and  freshest 
type  possible  of  the  Venetian  school.  .  .  . 

A  delicious  day  from  morning  to  night !  I  have  been 
towards  Chiozza,^  as  far  as  Pelestrina,  where  are  the  great 
structures,  called  Murazzi,  which  the  Republic  has  caused  to 

^  With  Goethe's  picture  of  Venice  in  sunshine  may  be  contrasted 
Shelley's  description  as  follows:  "  We  passed  the  laguna  in  the  middle  of 
the  night  in  a  most  violent  storm  of  wind,  rain,  and  lightning.  It  was  very 
curious  to  observe  the  elements  above  in  a  state  of  such  tremendous  con- 
vulsion, and  the  surface  of  the  water  almost  calm  ;  for  these  lagunas,  though 
five  miles  broad,  a  space  enough  in  a  storm  to  sink  a  gondola,  are  so 
shallow  that  the  boatmen  drive  the  boat  along  with  a  pole.  The  sea-water, 
furiously  agitated  by  the  wind,  shone  with  sparkles  like  stars.  Venice,  now 
hidden  and  now  disclosed  by  the  driving  rain,  shone  dimly  with  its 
lights." 

2  "  There  is  not  much  to  see  in  poor  little  Chioggia,"  writes  Mr.  W.  D 
Howells,  "  except  its  people,  who,  after  a  few  minutes'  contemplation,  can 
hardly  interest  any  one  but  the  artist."  The  French  painter,  Leopold 
Robert,  who  rendered  the  peasant  life  of  the  Italians  with  much  charm, 
remarks  of  the  Chioggia  fishermen  "  ils  sont  superbes."  Their  type  is 
certainly  different  from  that  of  the  Venetians,  and  it  has  been  attributed 
to  Greek  blood. 


132  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

be  raised  against  the  sea.  They  are  of  hewn  stone,  a)d 
properly  are  intended  to  protect  from  the  fury  of  the  wild 
element  the  tongue  of  land  called  the  Lido,  which  separates 
the  lagoons  from  the  sea. 

The  lagunes  are  the  work  of  old  nature.  First  of  all,  the 
land  and  tide,  the  ebb  and  flow,  working  against  one  another, 
and  then  the  gradual  sinking  of  the  primal  waters,  were, 
together,  the  causes  why,  at  the  upper  end  of  the  Adriatic,  we 
find  a  pretty  extensive  range  of  marshes,  which,  covered  by 
the  flood-tide,  are  partly  left  bare  by  the  ebb.  Art  took  pos- 
session of  the  highest  spots,  and  thus  arose  Venice,  formed 
out  of  a  group  of  a  hundred  isles,  and  surrounded  by  hundreds 
more.  Moreover,  at  an  incredible  expense  of  money  and 
labour,  deep  canals  have  been  dug  through  the  marshes,  in 
order  that  at  the  time  of  high  water,  ships  of  war  might  pass 
to  tiie  chief  points.  What  human  industry  and  wit  contrived 
and  executed  of  old,  skill  and  industry  must  now  keep  up. 
The  Lido,  a  long  narrow  strip  of  land,  separates  the  lagunes 
from  the  sea,  which  can  enter  only  at  two  points — at  the 
castle  and  at  the  opposite  end  near  Chiozza.  The  tide  flows 
in  usually  twice  a  day,  and  with  the  ebb  again  carries  out  the 
waters  twice,  and  always  by  the  same  channel  and  in  the  same 
direction.  The  flood  covers  the  lower  parts  of  the  morass, 
but  leaves  the  higher,  if  not  dry,  yet  visible. 

The  case  would  be  quite  altered  were  the  sea  to  make  new 
ways  for  itself,  to  attack  the  tongue  of  land  and  flow  in 
and  out  wherever  it  chose.  Not  to  mention  that  the  little 
villages  on  the  Lido,  Pelestrina,  viz.,  S.  Peter's  and  others, 
would  be  overwhelmed,  the  canals  of  communication  would 
be  choked  up,  and  while  the  water  involved  all  in  ruin,  the 
Lido  would  be  changed  into  an  island,  and  the  islands  which 
now  lie  behind  ii  be  converted  into  necks  and  tongues  of  land. 
To  guard  against  this  it  was  necessary  to  protect  the  Lido  as 
far  as  possible,  lest  the  furious  element  should  capriciously 
attack  and  overthrow  what  man  had  already  taken  possession 
of,  and  with  a  certain  end  and  purpose  given  shape  and 
use  together. — Goethe. 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     133 

VENETIAN    LIFE 
The  Old  Feast  of  the  Ascension  ^ 

I  happened  to  be  at  Venice  thrice,  at  the  great  sea  triumph, 
or  feast  of  the  Ascension,  which  was  performed  thus.  About 
our  eight  in  the  morning,  the  senators  in  their  scarlet  robes 
meet  at  the  Doge's  palace,  and  there  taking  him  up,  they  walk 
with  him  processionally  unto  the  shore,  where  the  Bucentoro 
lyes  waiting  them  ;  the  Pope's  Nuncio  being  upon  his  right 
hand,  and  the  Patriarch  of  Venice  on  his  left  hand.  Then 
ascending  into  the  Bucentoro,  by  a  handsome  bridge  thrown 
out  to  the  shore,  the  Doge  takes  his  place,  and  the  senators 
sit  round  about  the  galley  as  they  can,  to  the  number  of  two 
or  three  hundred.  The  Senate  being  placed,  the  anchor  is 
weighed,  and  the  slaves  being  warned  by  the  capitain's  whistle 
and  the  sound  of  trumpets,  begin  to  strike  all  at  once  with 
their  oars  and  to  make  the  Bucentoro  march  as  gravely  upon 
the  water,  as  if  she  also  went  upon  cioppini. 

Thus  they  steer  for  two  miles  upon  the  Laguna,  while  the 
musick  plays,  and  sings  Epithalmiums  all  the  way  long,  and 
makes  Neptune  jealous  to  hear  Hymen  called  upon  in  his 
dominions.  Round  about  the  Bucentoro  flock  a  world  of 
pioltas  and  gondolas,  richly  covered  overhead  with  sumptuous 
canopies  of  silks  and  rich  stuffs,  and  rowed  by  watermen  in 
rich  liveries,  as  well  as  the  trumpeters.  Thus  foreign  em- 
bassadors, divers  noblemen  of  the  country  and  strangers  of 
condition  wait  upon  the  Doge's  galley  all  the  way  long,  both 
coming  and  going.  At  last  the  Doge  being  arrived  at  the 
appointed  place,  throws  a  ring  into  the  sea,  without  any  other 
ceremony,-  than  by  saying,  Desponsamiis  ie,  Mare,  in  signu7>i 
perpetui  domifiii :  and  so  returns  to  the  church  of  S.  Nicolas  in 
Lio  (an  island  hard  by)  where  he  assists  at  high  mass  with  the 
Senate.  This  done,  he  returns  home  again  in  the  same  state ; 
and  invites  those  that  accompanied  him  in  his  galley  to  dinner 
in  his  palace  :  the  preparations  of  which  dinner  we  saw  before 

1  The  Wedding  of  the  Adriatic— instituted  in  997— was  kept  up  to  the 
declining  days  of  the  Republic,  and  Archenholtz  wrote  that  "  in  the  year 
1775  the  number  of  those  who  arrived  on  the  eve  of  Ascension  day 
amounted  to  42,480  exclusive  of  the  preceding  days."  He  adds  that  the 
ceremonial  was  only  performed  in  fair  weather. 

2  Saint-Didier  says  that  flowers  and  odoriferous  herbs  are  thrown  on 
the  sea  "to  crown  the  bride."' 


134  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  Doge  was  got  home.  This  ceremony  of  marrying  the  sea, 
as  they  call  it,  is  ancient :  and  performed  yearly  in  memory  of 
the  grant  of  Pope  Alexander  the  Third,  who  being  restored  by 
the  Venetians  unto  his  seat  again,  granted  them  power  over 
the  Adriatick  sea,  as  a  man  hath  power  over  his  wife ;  and  the 
Venetians  to  keep  this  possession,  make  every  year  this  watery 
cavalcata.  I  confess,  the  sight  is  stately,  and  a  poet  would 
presently  conceive  that  Neptune  himself  were  going  to  be 
married  to  some  Nereide. — Lassels. 

Seventeenth-Century  Costume 

Methought,  when  I  came  here  from  France  to  Venice  I 
came  from  boyes  to  men,  for  here  I  saw  the  handsomest,  the 
most  sightly,  the  most  proper  and  grave  men  that  ever  I  saw 
anywhere  else.  They  weare  always  in  the  towne  (I  speake  of 
the  noblemen)  a  long  black  gowne,  a  black  cap  knit  with  an 
edgeing  of  black  wooll  about  it,  like  a  fringe  ;  an  ancient  and 
manly  weare,  which  makes  them  look  like  Senators.  Their 
hair  is  generally  the  best  I  ever  saw  anywhere ;  these  little 
caps  not  pressing  it  down  as  our  hats  do,  and  periwigs  are 
here  forbid.  Under  their  long  gownes  (which  fly  open  before) 
they  have  handsome  black  suites  of  rich  stuffs  with  stockins 
and  garters  and  Spanish  leather  shoes  neatly  made.  In  a 
word,  I  never  saw  so  many  proper  men  together,  nor  so  wise, 
as  I  saw  dayly  there  walking  upon  the  Piazza  of  S.  Mark.  I 
may  boldly  say,  that  I  saw  there  five  hundred  gentlemen 
walking  together  every  day,  everyone  of  which  was  able  to 
play  the  Embassador  in  any  Prince's  court  of  Europe.  But 
the  misery  is  that  we  strangers  cannot  walk  there  with  them 
and  talk  with  them  but  must  keep  out  of  their  way  and  stand 
aloof  off.  The  reason  is  this  :  this  State  (as  all  Republicks  are) 
being  hugely  gealous  of  her  liberty  and  preservation,  forbids 
her  Noblemen  and  Senators  to  converse  with  Forrain  Em- 
bassadors, or  any  man  that  either  is  an  actual  servant  or 
follower  of  an  Embassador,  or  hath  any  the  least  relation  to 
any  Prince's  Agent  without  expresse  leave ;  and  this  upon 
payne  of  being  suspected  as  a  Traitor  and  condignly 
punished.  .  .  . 

As  for  the  women  here,  they  would  gladly  get  the  same 
reputation  that  their  husbands  have  of  being  tall  and  hand- 
some ;  but  they  overdo  it  with  their  horrible  cioppini  or  high 
shoes,  which  I  have  often  seen  to  be  a  full  half  yard  high. 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF  THE   ADRIATIC     135 

I  confesse  I  wondered  at  first  to  see  women  go  upon  stilts  and 
appear  taller  by  the  head  than  any  man  and  not  to  be  able  to 
go  any  whither  without  resting  their  hands  upon  the  shoulders 
of  two  grave  matrons  that  usher  them  ;  but  at  least  I  perceived 
that  it  was  good  policy,  and  a  pretty  ingenious  way  either  to 
clog  women  at  home  by  such  heavy  shoes  (as  the  Egyptians 
kept  their  wives  at  home  by  allowing  them  no  shoes  at  all)  or 
at  least  to  make  them  not  able  to  go  either  farre  or  alone,  or 
invisibly.  As  for  the  young  ladyes  of  this  towne  that  are 
not  marryed,  they  are  never  seen  abroad,  but  masked  liked 
Moscarades  in  a  strange  disguise,  at  the  Fair  time  and  other 
publick  solemnities  or  shows. — Lassels. 

A  Play-house  in  1608 

I  was  at  one  of  their  play-houses  where  I  saw  a  comedy 
acted.  The  house  is  very  beggarly  and  base  in  comparison 
of  our  stately  play-houses  in  England :  neither  can  their 
actors  compare  with  us  for  apparel,  shows  and  music.  Here 
I  observed  certain  things  that  I  never  saw  before.  For  I 
saw  women  act,  a  thing  that  I  never  saw  before,  though  I 
have  heard  that  it  hath  been  sometimes  used  in  London, 
and  they  performed  it  with  as  good  a  grace,  action,  gesture, 
and  whatsoever  convenient  for  a  player,  as  ever  I  saw  any 
masculine  actor.  Also  their  noble  and  famous  courtesans 
came  to  this  comedy,  but  so  disguised,  that  a  man  cannot 
perceive  them.  For  they  wore  double  masks  upon  their 
faces,  to  the  end  they  might  not  be  seen  :  one  reaching  from 
the  top  of  their  forehead  to  their  chin  and  under  their  neck ; 
another  with  twiskes  of  downy  or  woolly  stuff  covering  their 
noses.  And  as  for  their  necks  round  about,  they  were  so 
covered  and  wrapped  with  cobweb  lawn  and  other  things, 
that  no  part  of  their  skin  could  be  discerned.  Upon  their 
heads  they  wore  little  black  felt  caps  very  like  to  those  of  the 
clarissimoes.  They  were  so  graced  that  they  sat  on  high 
alone  by  themselves  in  the  best  room  of  all  the  play-house. 
If  any  man  should  be  so  resolute  to  unmask  one  of  them 
but  in  merriment  only  to  see  their  faces,  it  is  said  that  were 
he  never  so  noble  or  worthy  a  personage,  he  should  be  cut 
in  pieces  before  he  should  come  forth  of  the  roome,  especially 
if  he  were  a  stranger. — Coryatf. 


136  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


The  Venetian  Blondes 

All  the  women  of  Venice  every  Saturday  in  the  afternoon 
do  use  to  anoint  their  hair  with  oil,  or  some  other  drugs,  to 
the  end  to  make  it  look  fair,  that  is,  whitish.  For  that  colour 
is  most  alTected  of  the  Venetian  dames  and  lasses.  And  in 
this  manner  they  do  it :  first  they  put  on  a  reeden  hat, 
without  any  crown  at  all,  but  brims  of  exceeding  breadth 
and  largeness  :  then  they  sit  in  some  sun-shining  place  in 
a  chamber  or  some  other  secret  room,  where  having  a 
looking  glass  before  them  they  sophisticate  and  dye  their 
hair  with  the  foresaid  drugs,  and  after  cast  it  back  round 
upon  the  brims  of  the  hat,  till  it  be  thoroughly  dried  with 
the  heat  of  the  sun  :  and  last  of  all  they  curl  it  up  in  curious 
locks  with  a  frisling  or  crisping  pin  of  iron,  which  we  call 
in  Latin  calamistrum,  the  top  whereof  on  both  sides  above 
the  forehead  is  accuminated  in  two  peaks.  That  this  is  true 
I  know  by  my  own  experience.  For  it  was  my  chance  one 
day  when  I  was  in  Venice,  to  stand  by  an  Englishman's 
wife,  who  was  a  Venetian  woman  born  :  a  favour  not  accorded 
to  every  stranger. — Coryatt. 

A  Gamhling  Hell  in  1680 

When  night  comes  and  the  amusements  of  the  Piazza  are 
ended,  those  of  the  gambling  houses  begin.  The  places 
where  the  Venetian  nobility  take  the  bank  against  all  comers 
are  called  ridotti:  there  are  several  of  them  where  the  noble- 
men chiefly  play  during  the  whole  year,  but  that  which  is 
specially  used  during  the  Carnival  is  a  house  near  the  Piazza 
where  the  world  goes  after  the  hour  of  the  promenade.  It 
is  difficult  to  obtain  an  entrance  for  those  who  are  not 
masked,  the  mask^  being  the  privilege  of  the  Venetian 
nobility ;  but  a  false  nose  or  beard,  or  anything  which  makes 
a  disguise  is  enough — if  the  wearer  does  not  wish  to  play 
he  can  take  it  off  when  he  is  inside  the  rooms.  These  are 
a  hall  and  several  smaller  rooms  with  a  number  of  hanging 
chandeliers,  and  many  tables  arranged  all  round,  at  each  of 

1  "  The  use  of  the  mask,"  writes  Montesquieu  later,  "is  not  a  disguise 
but  an  incognito.  People  change  their  dress  but  seldom  and  everybody 
is  recognised.  Even  when  the  Papal  Nuncio  wore  a  mask,  a  man  knelt 
to  him  and  asked  for  his  benediction." 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF  THE   ADRIATIC     137 

which  a  nobleman  sits  with  his  back  to  the  wall,  and  offering 
play.  Each  has  before  him  several  packs  of  cards,  a  heap 
of  gold  pieces,  another  of  silver  ducats,  and  two  torches 
which  are  ready  to  be  held  up  to  anyone  who  wishes  to 
play,  whether  masked  nobleman  or  a  private  gentleman.  The 
crowd  is  so  great  that  it  is  not  easy  to  pass  from  room  to 
room,  and  yet  there  is  a  greater  silence  than  in  any  church. 
.  .  .  The  calmness  and  phlegm  with  which  vast  sums  are 
won  and  lost,  is  so  extraordinary,  that  one  might  call  the 
place  a  school,  established  to  teach  deportment  of  moderation 
in  good  as  well  as  evil  fortune,  instead  of  a  place  of  amuse- 
ment. .  .  .  Ladies  go  frequently  to  play  in  the  ridotti. — St. 
Didier. 

The  Carnival 

We  arrived  here  about  three  weeks  ago.  The  Carnavall 
took  up  ten  days  of  it,  where  we  saw  what  in  Scotland  would 
be  thought  downright  madness ;  everybody  is  in  mask,  a 
thing  of  tafeta,  called  a  bahul,  is  put  on  the  head,  which 
covers  one's  face  to  the  nose.  The  upper  part  is  covered  by 
people  of  quality  with  a  white  mask  like  what  the  ladys  used 
to  tye  on  with  a  chin-cloak  long  ago.  The  bahul  hangs 
down  about  the  shoulders  a  hand-breadth  below  the  top  of 
the  shoulders.  A  Venetian  nobleman's  gown,  an  Armenian 
long  garment  furred,  a  vest  called  a  Hongrois,  which  reaches 
to  the  knee,  furred,  or  a  plain  scarlet,  is  what  grave  people 
wear;  others  are  cloathed  as  they  please,  some  like  doctors 
of  law,  others  with  peacocks'  trains  and  hatts  as  broad  as 
six  hatts,  others  as  harlequins,  ladys  as  country  girls,  and 
some  as  oddly  as  one's  wildest  dreams  could  represent  them  ; 
en  fin,  no  extravagant  conceipt  can  outdo  what  one  sees  on 
St.  Mark's  Place.  Sometimes  a  company  of  noblemen  and 
ladys  dress  themselves  up  like  country  people  and  dance 
torlanos  in  the  open  place,  which  is  the  frolick  I  saw  that  I 
like  the  best,  for  they  dance  scurvily  when  they  pretend  to 
French  or  English  dances  (for  here  they  dance  country 
dances  at  all  their  balls).  A  torlano  is  somewhat  like  the 
way  our  Highlanders  dance,  but  the  women  do  it  much 
more  prettily  than  the  men.  Sometimes  you  shall  see  a 
young  pair  of  eyes  with  a  hugh  nose  and  a  vast  beard  playing 
on  a  guitar  and  acting  like  a  mountebank.  On  one  hand  you 
shall  hear  a  dispute  in  physick,  turning  all  into  ridiculous ; 
on   the  other  one,  on  a  subject  of  law;  some  dialogues  of 


138  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

mere  witt,  and  things  said  that  are  surprising  enough.  But 
on  the  whole  matter  St.  Mark's  Place  is  like  a  throng  of 
foolls.  On  Shrove  Thursday  a  bull  is  beheaded  by  a  butcher 
chosen  by  his  fellows  for  that  feat,  and  if  he  does  it  well  in 
presence  of  the  Doge  and  all  the  Senate  is  treated  in 
senerissimo,  feasted,  and  has  the  best  musick  at  supper  that 
can  be.  He  I  saw  do  it  did  it  cleverly  at  one  blow,  and 
did  not  seem  to  strain  neither.  The  Doge's  guards  con- 
ducted him  to  and  from  the  place,  and  a  firework  is  sett  on 
fire  in  fair  daylight.  A  fellow  is  drawn  up  on  a  flying  rope, 
such  as  mountebanks  use,  in  a  ship  about  the  bigness  of  a 
gondola  (which  is  a  very  long  small  boat),  and  all  the  way 
he  fires  gunns  and  throws  grenads  amongst  the  people,  but 
they  are  only  paper  ones.  Then  he  flyes  down  from  the  top 
of  St.  Mark's  steple,  where  he  had  left  his  gondoXdi.— J a?nes, 
Earl  of  Perth. 

The  Song  of  the  Gondoliers  ^ 

This  evening  I  bespoke  the  celebrated  songoi  the  mariners, 
who  chaunt  Tasso  and  Ariosto  to  melodies  of  their  own.  This 
must  actually  be  ordered,  as  it  is  not  to  be  heard  as  a  thing 
of  course,  but  rather  belongs  to  the  half  forgotten  traditions 
of  former  times.  I  entered  a  gondola  by  moonlight,  with  one 
singer  before  and  the  other  behind  me.  They  sing  their  song, 
taking  up  the  verses  alternately.  The  melody,  which  we  know 
through  Rousseau,  is  of  a  middle  kind,  between  choral  and 
recitative,  maintaining  throughout  the  same  cadence,  without 
any  fixed  time.  The  modulation  is  also  uniform,  only  varying 
with  a  sort  of  declamation  both  tone  and  measure,  according 
to  the  subject  of  the  verse.  But  the  spirit- — the  life  of  it,  is 
as  follows  : — 

Without  inquiring  into  the  construction  of  the  melody, 
suffice  it  to  say  that  it  is  admirably  suited  to  that  easy  class 
of  people,  who,  always  humming  something  or  other  to  them- 
selves, adapt  such  tunes  to  any  little  poem  they  know  by 
heart. 

Sitting  on  the  shore  of  an  island,  on  the  bank  of  a  canal,  or 
on  the  side  of  a  boat,  a  gondolier  will  sing  away  with  a  loud 
penetrating  voice — the  multitude  admire  force  above  every- 
thing— anxious  only  to  be  heard  as  far  as  possible.     Over  the 

'  "The  well-known  song  of  the  gondoliers,  of  alternate  stanzas  from 
Tasso's  '  Jerusalem,'  has  died  with  the  independence  of  Venice." — Hobhoiise. 


VENICE   AND  TOWNS   OF  THE  ADRIATIC     139 

silent  mirror  it  travels  far.  Another  in  the  distance,  who  is 
acquainted  with  the  melody  and  knows  the  words,  takes  it  up 
and  answers  with  the  next  verse,  and  then  the  first  replies,  so 
that  the  one  is  as  it  were  the  echo  of  the  other.  The  song 
continues  through  whole  nights  and  is  kept  up  without  fatigue. 
The  further  the  singers  are  from  each  other,  the  more  touching 
sounds  the  strain.  The  best  place  for  the  listener  is  halfway 
between  the  two. 

In  order  to  let  me  hear  it,  they  landed  on  the  bank  of  the 
Giudecca,  and  took  up  different  positions  by  the  canal.  I 
walked  backwards  and  forwards  between  them,  so  as  to  leave 
the  one  whose  turn  it  was  to  sing,  and  to  join  the  one  who 
had  just  left  off.  Then  it  was  that  the  effect  of  the  strain 
first  opened  upon  me.  As  a  voice  from  the  distance  it  sounds 
in  the  highest  degree  strange — as  a  lament  without  sadness  : 
it  has  an  incredible  effect,  and  is  moving  even  to  tears.  I 
ascribed  this  to  my  own  state  of  mind,  but  my  old  boatsman 
said :  "  e  singolare,  como  quel  canto  intenerisce,  e  molto  piu 
quando  e  piu  ben  cantato."  He  wished  that  I  could  hear 
the  women  of  the  Lido,  especially  those  of  Malamocco  and 
Pelestrina.  These  also,  he  told  me,  chaunted  Tasso  and 
Ariosto  to  the  same  or  similar  melodies.  He  went  on  :  "  in 
the  evening,  while  their  husbands  are  on  the  sea  fishing,  they 
are  accustomed  to  sit  on  the  beach,  and  with  shrill,  penetrating 
voice  to  make  these  strains  resound,  until  they  catch  from  the 
distance  the  voices  of  their  partners,  and  in  this  way  they 
keep  up  a  communication  with  them."  Is  not  that  beautiful? 
and  yet,  it  is  very  possible  that  one  who  heard  them  close  by, 
would  take  little  pleasure  in  such  tones  which  have  to  vie 
with  the  waves  of  the  sea.  Human,  however,  and  true  be- 
comes the  song  in  this  way  :  thus  is  life  given  to  the  melody, 
on  whose  dead  elements  we  should  otherwise  have  been  sadly 
puzzled.  It  is  the  song  of  one  solitary,  singing  at  a  distance, 
in  the  hope  that  another  of  kindred  feelings  and  sentiments 
may  hear  and  answer. —  Goethe. 

Gondolas 

Gondolas  themselves  are  things  of  a  most  romantic  and 
picturesque  appearance ;  I  can  only  compare  them  to  moths 
of  which  a  coffin  might  have  been  the  chrysalis.  They  are 
hung  with  black,  and  painted  black,  and  carpeted  with  grey ; 
they  curl  at  the  prow  and  stern,  and  at  the  former  there  is  a 


I40  THE   BOOK   OF   ITAT.IAN   TRAVEL 

nondescript  beak  of  shining  steel,  which  ghtters  at  the  end  of 
its  long  black  mass. — Shelley. 

The  Modern  Gondolier 

I  have  had  plenty  of  opportunities  of  seeing  my  friends 
the  gondoliers,  both  in  their  own  homes  and  in  my  apartment. 
Several  have  entertained  me  at  their  mid-day  meal  of  fried 
fish  and  amber-coloured  polenta.  These  repasts  were  always 
cooked  with  scrupulous  cleanliness,  and  served  upon  a  table 
covered  with  coarse  linen.  The  polenta  is  turned  out  upon 
a  wooden  platter,  and  cut  with  a  string  called  lassa.  You 
take  a  large  slice  of  it  on  the  palm  of  the  left  hand,  and  break 
it  with  the  fingers  of  the  right.  Wholesome  red  wine  of  the 
Paduan  district  and  good  white  bread  were  never  wanting. 
The  rooms  in  which  we  met  to  eat  looked  out  on  narrow  lanes 
or  over  pergolas  of  yellowing  vines.  Their  white-washed  walls 
were  hung  with  photographs  of  friends  and  foreigners,  many 
of  them  souvenirs  from  English  or  American  employers.  The 
men  in  broad  black  hats  and  lilac  shirts  sat  round  the  table, 
girt  with  the  red  waist-wrapper,  or  fascia^  which  marks  the 
ancient  faction  of  the  Castellani.  The  other  faction,  called 
Nicolotti,  are  distinguished  by  a  black  assisa.  The  quarters 
of  the  town  are  divided  unequally  and  irregularly  into  these 
two  parties.  What  was  once  a  formidable  rivalry  between 
two  sections  of  the  Venetian  populace  still  survives  in  chal- 
lenges to  strength  and  skill  upon  the  water.  .  .  .  On  all  these 
occasions  I  have  found  these  gondoliers  the  same  sympathetic, 
industrious,  deeply  affectionate  folk.  They  live  in  many 
respects  a  hard  and  precarious  life.  The  winter  in  particular 
is  a  time  of  anxiety,  and  sometimes  of  privation,  even  to  the 
well-to-do  among  them.  .  .  .  On  the  other  hand,  their  life 
has  never  been  so  lazy  as  to  reduce  them  to  the  scarcity  of 
the  traditional  Neapolitan  lazzaroni. — /.  A.  Symonds. 

A  Venetian  Funeral 

A  church  opens  its  doors ;  and  there  issues  forth  a  red 
procession  escorting  a  red  bier  which  is  placed  on  a  red 
gondola.  In  Venice  mourning  wears  purple.  This  is  a 
funeral  passing  to  the  cemetery  in  the  island  on  the  way 
to  Murano.  The  priests,  the  bearers,  the  candles,  and  the 
ceremonial  ornaments  are  in  the  first  gondola.     Go  and  sleep, 


VENICE    AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     141 

O  dead,  beneath  the  sand  impregnated  with  sea-salt,  under 
the  shadow  of  an  iron  cross  brushed  by  the  wing  of  the  sea- 
gull ;  for  the  bones  of  a  Venetian,  earth  would  be  too  heavy 
a  shroud. — Th'eophile  Gautier. 


ARCHITECTURE   AND   ART 
San  Marco  (The  Exterior) 

Like  the  mosque  of  Cordova,  which  it  resembles  in  more 
respects  than  one,  the  basilica  of  Saint  Mark  has  more  extent 
than  height,  differing  from  most  Gothic  churches,  which  spring 
skyward  with  their  multitude  of  pointed  arches  and  spires. 
The  grand  cupola  in  the  centre  is  only  no  feet  in  height, 
and  San  Marco  has  preserved  the  character  of  primitive 
Christianity,  which  began,  as  soon  as  it  had  come  out  of  the 
catacombs,  to  build  its  churches  without  any  formulas  of  art 
on  the  ruins  of  paganism.  Begun  in  979,  under  the  doge 
Pietro  Orseolo,  the  basilica  was  slowly  completed,  borrowing 
fresh  riches  and  new  beauty  from  each  age,  and,  strange  as 
it  may  seem  to  our  conception  of  harmony,  this  collection 
of  columns,  capitals,  bas-reliefs,  enamels  and  mosaics,  this 
mingling  of  styles  so  varying  as  the  Greek,  Roman,  Byzantine, 
Arabic  and  Gothic,  produces  a  perfect  whole.  .  .  . 


The  Fagade  towards  the  Piazza  has  five  porches  opening 
into  the  church,  and  two  leading  to  lateral  galleries  outside 
it :  in  all,  seven  openings,  three  on  each  side  of  the  great 
central  porch.  The  principal  porch  is  marked  by  two  groups 
of  four  columns  of  porphyry  and  verde  antique  on  the  first 
stages  and  of  six  on  the  second,  supporting  the  lower  line 
of  the  semi-circle ;  the  other  porches  have  only  two  columns 
also  at  each  stage.  Here  we  only  refer  to  the  fagade  itself,  for 
the  breadth  of  the  porches  is  ornamented  with  cipoline,  jasper 
and  pentelic  marbles,  and  other  precious  substances.  We 
may  now  examine  in  detail  the  mosaics  and  other  ornaments 
of  this  marvellous  facade.  Beginning  with  the  first  arcade 
towards  the  sea,  we  observe,  above  a  square  doorway  enclosed 
by  a  grille,  a  Byzantine  plate  in  black  and  gold  in  the  form 
of  a  reliquary,  with  two  angels  caught  up  into  the  bands  of 


142  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  ogive.  Higher  up,  in  the  tympanum  of  the  semi-circle, 
we  see  a  large  mosaic  on  a  golden  ground,  representing  the 
removal  of  the  body  of  St.  Mark  from  the  crypts  of  Alexandria 
and  its  being  smuggled  through  the  Turkish  customs-house 
between  two  rows  of  pigs,  the  unclean  beasts  which  the 
Mussulmans  will  not  touch  except  at  the  cost  of  ablutions 
without  number.  The  heathens  turn  away  with  gestures  of 
disgust,  foolishly  allowing  the  body  of  the  apostle  to  be 
carried  away.  This  mosaic  was  executed  from  the  cartoons 
of  Pietro  Vecchia  about  1650.  In  the  curve  of  the  moulding 
of  the  arch  on  the  right,  is  let  in  an  ancient  bas-relief, 
Hercules  bearing  on  his  shoulders  the  boar  of  Erymanthus 
and  spurning  the  Lernean  hydra ;  in  that  to  the  spectator's 
left,  by  one  the  contrasts  often  met  with  in  St.  Mark's,  we 
see  the  angel  Gabriel  standing  winged,  haloed  and  shod, 
leaning  on  his  lance :  a  curious  companion  to  the  son  of 
Jupiter  and  Alcmena !  The  second  arcade  has  a  door  that 
is  not  in  symmetry  with  the  other ;  it  is  topped  by  a  window 
with  three  ogives,  in  which  are  designed  two  quatrefoils,  and 
which  are  surrounded  by  a  cordon  of  enamels.  The  mosaic 
of  the  tympanum,  also  on  a  ground  of  gold  like  all  the  mosaics 
of  St.  Mark's,  pourlrays  the  arrival  of  the  apostle's  body  at 
Venice,  where  it  is  lowered  from  the  ship  and  received  by  the 
clergy  and  notables  of  the  town ;  the  ship  is  shewn  and  the 
baskets  of  osier  too  in  which  the  relics  were  placed.  The 
mosaic  is  again  by  Pietro  Vecchia.  A  seated  St.  Demetrius, 
drawing  his  sword  half  out  of  the  scabbard,  with  a  wild 
appearance  of  belonging  to  the  latest  days  of  the  Empire, 
continues  the  line  of  varying  bas-reliefs  which  are  let  into  the 
fa^-ade  of  the  basilica  as  though  it  were  a  museum. 

We  come  now  to  the  central  door,  the  grand  porch  whose 
contour  touches  the  balustrade  of  marble  which  runs  above 
the  other  arcades ;  it  is,  as  it  should  be,  the  richest  and  most 
ornate,  not  only  for  the  mass  of  pillars  of  ancient  marble  which 
support  and  give  it  grandeur,  but  also  for  three  mouldings 
which,  two  within  and  one  without,  firmly  design  the  arch  by 
their  projection.  These  three  flanges  of  sculptured  ornament, 
carved  and  undercut  with  marvellous  patience,  are  made  up 
of  a  bushy  spiral  of  leaves,  foliage,  flowers,  fruit,  birds,  angels, 
saints,  figures  and  monsters  of  all  kinds ;  in  the  last  flange 
the  arabesques  spring  from  the  hands  of  two  statues  seated 
at  each  end  of  the  cordon.  The  door,  adorned  with  panels  of 
bronze  decorated  with  muzzles  of  fantastic  animals,  has  for 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF  THE  ADRIATIC     143 

its  main  ornament  a  niche  with  gilded  shutters,  trelHsed  and 
opened  in  the  manner  of  a  triptych  or  cabinet.  A  Last 
Judgtnent  of  considerable  size  is  at  the  top  of  the  arcade. 
The  composition  of  it  was  by  Antonio  Zanchi,  and  it  was 
translated  into  mosaic  by  Pietro  Spagna.  The  work  was  of 
about  the  year  1680  ;  it  was  restored  in  1838  from  the  original 
design.  The  Christ,  who  is  not  unhke  that  of  Michael  Angelo 
in  the  Sistine  Chapel,  is  separating  the  good  from  the  evil; 
near  him  he  has  his  divine  mother  and  his  well-beloved 
disciple,  St.  John.  They  appear  to  intercede  with  him  for 
the  sinners,  while  he  leans  on  a  cross  upheld  by  an  angel 
with  reverent  care.  Other  angels  blow  on  trumpets  with 
bulged  cheeks,  to  awake  those  who  sleep  too  long  in  their 
tombs.  It  is  above  this  porch,  on  the  gallery  which  runs 
round  the  church  that  are  placed,  with  ancient  pillars  for 
their  socles,  the  celebrated  horses  which  temporarily  adorned 
Napoleon's  triumphal  arch  in  the  Place  du  Carrousel. 
Opinions  are  divided  as  to  their  place  of  origin  :  some  think 
the  horses  Roman  work  of  the  time  of  Nero,  taken  to  Con- 
stantinople in  the  fourth  century;  others,  that  they  came 
from  Chios,  being  brought  by  order  of  Theodosius  to  the 
hippodrome  of  Constantinople  in  the  fifth  century.  It  is 
certain  that  they  are  antique,  and  that  in  1205,  Marino  Zeno, 
then  podesta  at  Constantinople,  had  them  removed  from  the 
hippodrome  and  gave  them  to  Venice.  The  horses  are  life- 
size,  somewhat  on  their  haunches,  the  manes  straight  and 
cut  like  those'  of  the  horses  on  the  frieze  of  the  Parthenon. 
They  are  among  the  finest  relics  of  antiquity ;  with  the  rare 
quality  of  being  true  to  nature  and  yet  classical.  The  move- 
ment shews  that  they  were  harnessed  to  a  triumphal  car.  The 
material  is  not  less  precious  than  the  form,  for  they  are  said 
to  be  made  of  Corinthian  brass,  and  the  green  patina  is  to  be 
seen  where  the  coat  of  gilt  is  worn  away  by  time. 

II 

The  fourth  porch  has  the  same  interior  arrangement  as  the 
second.  The  tympanum  of  the  arcade  is  filled  by  a  mosaic 
showing  the  doge,  the  senate,  and  the  patricians  of  Venice 
coming  to  worship  the  body  of  St.  Mark  laid  on  a  bier  and 
covered  by  a  brilliant  blue  drapery;  in  a  corner  lurks  a  group 
of  Turks  who  shew  their  discomfiture  at  having  allowed  such 
a  treasure  to  be  taken  from  them.     This  mosaic  is  one  of  the 


T44  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

most  striking   in  colour  :    it  was    executed   by  Leopoldo   del 
Pozzo,  after  a  design  by  Sebastiano  Rizzi  in  1728.     It  is  very 
beautiful,  the  senator  in  the  purple  robe  being  as  fine  as  any- 
thing by  Titian.     In  the  curve  of  the  archivolt  near  to  the  big 
doorway  is  a   St.  George  in  the   Greek-Byzantine  style,   and 
near,  an  angel  or  saint  unknown.     The  fifth  porch  is  one  of 
the  most  curious.     The  lower  portion  is  filled  by  five  little 
windows  with  gilt  trellises,  cut  in  various  ways.     Above,  the 
four  symbolic  forms  in  gilt-bronze — here  as  fantastic  in  form 
as  Japanese  fancies — the  ox,  lion,   eagle,  and  angel  look  at 
each  other  obliquely,  while  a  strange  horseman,  on  a  steed 
which  may  be  meant  either  for  Pegasus  or  the  white  horse  of 
the  Apocalypse,  prances  between  two  golden  rosaces.     Above 
this  is  a  mosaic,  the  work  of  an  unknown  artist  of  the  twelfth 
century,  shewing  a  picture  of  great  interest :  the  appearance  of 
the  basilica  erected  to  receive  the  relics  of  St.  Mark,  as  it  was 
eight  hundred  years  ago.     The  domes,  of  which  only  three  are 
seen  owing  to  the  perspective,  and  the  porches  of  the  facade 
have  much  the  same  form  as  they  have  to-day  :  the  horses, 
just  then  come  from  Constantinople,  are  already  in  place  ;  the 
central  arcade   has  a  huge    Byzantine  Christ  with  a    Greek 
monogram,  and  the  others  are  filled  with  rosaces,  foliation,  and 
arabesques.     The  body  of  the  saint,  borne  on  the  shoulders  of 
prelates  and  bishops,  shews  the  face  in  profile  as  it  is  carried 
into  the  church  consecrated  to  it.     A  crowd  of  citizens  and  of 
women  is  collected  for  the  ceremony ;  the  latter  dressed  in 
the  long  bejewelled  gowns  which  remind  us  of  the  dress  of 
the  Greek  Empresses.     The  line  of  varied  bas-reliefs,  whose 
subjects  we  have  described,  is  ended  on  this  side  by  a  Hercules 
carrying  the  boar  of  Calydon,  and  seeming  to  threaten  a  small 
grotesque  figure  half  lost  in  a  tub.       Beneath  this  bas-relief 
there  are  two  lions  rampant,  and  lower  still  an  antique  figure 
in    full    relief  holds   a   deflected   amphora    on    its    shoulder. 
The   idea,    which  chance   may    have    suggested,    is   happily 
repeated   in   the   remainder  of  the    building.      The   row   of 
porches  forming  the  first  storey  of  the  fac^ade  is  bordered  by  a 
balustrade  of  white  marble  ;    the  second   row  contains  five 
arches  ;  the  centre  one  is  larger  than  the  others,  its  arch  is 
seen  behind  the  horses  of  Lysippus,  and  has  no  mosaic,  but  is 
glazed  with  round  glass  and  ornamented  with  four  antique 
pillars.     Six  bell-turrets,  composed  of  four  detached  columns 
which  make  a  niche  for  the  statue  of  the  evangelist  and  of  a 
pinnacle  surrounded  by  a  golden  crown  and  topped  by  a  vane, 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     145 

separate  the  arches,  whose  tympanum  is  in  a  semi-circle,  and 
whose  ribs  diminish  into  the  ogival  point.  The  four  subjects 
of  the  mosaics  represent  the  Ascension,  the  Resurrection, 
Jesus  bringing  Adam  and  Eve  and  the  Patriarchs  out  of 
Limbo,  and  the  Descent  from  the  Cross  of  Luigi  Gaetano, 
after  Maffeo  Verona's  cartoons  of  161 7.  In  the  curve  of  the 
arcades  are  placed  nude  figures  of  slaves,  life-size,  bearing  on 
their  shoulders  urns  and  amphoras,  bent  down  as  if  they 
wished  to  pour  water  taken  from  a  spring  into  a  basin  ; 
these  amphoras  are  hollowed  for  the  spouts,  and  the  slaves 
themselves  are  the  gargoyles.  They  are  placed  in  many 
attitudes,  and  are  superb  in  form. 


Ill 

In  the  ogival  point  of  the  big  central  window,  on  a  dark- 
blue  background  gemmed  with  stars,  is  the  lion  of  St.  Mark, 
gilded,  with  a  halo  and  outstretched  wing,  and  with  a  claw  on 
the  gospel  opened  at  the  passage  :  Pax  tibi,  Marce,  evaiigelista 
mens.  The  lion  has  a  formidable,  an  apocalyptic  expression, 
and  looks  over  the  sea  like  a  watchful  dragon  ;  above  this 
symbolism  representing  the  evangelist  is  a  St.  Mark,  here  in 
human  form,  erect  on  the  gable-end,  and  seeming  to  receive 
the  homage  of  the  neighbouring  statues.  These  five  arcades 
are  festooned  in  the  ogival  ribs  with  big  volutes,  leafage  and 
rich  foliation  cut  acanthus-wise,  and  having  for  blossom  an 
angel  or  saintly  personage  in  adoration.  On  each  gable  stands 
a  statue,  St.  John,  St.  George,  St.  Theodore,  and  St.  Michael, 
with  a  halo  in  the  form  of  a  hat  on  their  heads.  At  each  end 
of  the  balustrade  there  are  two  masts  painted  red,  on  which 
flags  are  hoisted  for  Sundays  and  holidays  ;  in  a  corner  of  the 
edifice,  towards  the  Campanile,  is  placed  a  head  of  purple 
porphyry.  The  lateral  facade,  towards  the  Piazzetta  and 
bordering  on  the  Ducal  Palace,  deserves  attention.  If,  not- 
withstanding every  care  and  the  most  minute  accuracy,  this 
description  seems  confused,  we  are  not  to  be  blamed,  for  it  is 
difficult  precisely  to  describe  a  hybrid,  composite,  and  varying 
edifice  like  San  Marco.  From  the  Bartolomeo  door  which 
leads  to  the  Giant's  Staircase  in  the  court  of  the  Palace  of 
the  Doges,  the  basilica  shows  a  wall  covered  with  marble 
tablets,  and  antique,  Byzantine,  or  mediseval  bas-reliefs,  with 
birds,  griffins,  hybrids  ;  animals  of  all  kinds,  such  as  lions  and 
wild  beasts  pursuing  hares  ;  children  half-devoured  by  dragons 

K 


146  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

like  the  Milanese  eagle,  and  holding  in  their  hands  scrolls  with 
half-worn  inscriptions.  Among  the  curiosities  of  this  side  are 
porphyry  figures  in  two  pairs,  each  pair  identical  in  every 
particular ;  they  are  warriors  with  almost  the  dress  of  the 
Crusaders  who  took  Jerusalem,  and  are  sculptured  in  the  most 
primitive  and  barbarous  manner,  like  the  most  artless  bas- 
reliefs.  These  men  of  porphyry,  each  with  a  hand  on  the  hilt 
of  his  sword,  seem  to  be  agreeing  on  some  desperate  deter- 
mination ;  and  the  vulgar  opinion  is  that  they  are  Harmodius 
and  Aristogeiton  making  ready  to  kill  the  tyrant  Hipparchus. 
The  learned  Cavaliere  Mustoxidi  takes  them  to  be  the  four 
brothers  Anemuria,  who  conspired  against  Alexis  Comnenus, 
the  Emperor  of  the  East.  They  might  very  well  be  the  four 
sons  of  Aymon  :  we  certainly  incline  to  this  opinion.  Some 
take  the  porphyry  figures  to  be  two  pairs  of  Saracen  robbers, 
who,  having  plotted  to  steal  the  treasure  of  St.  Mark's, 
poisoned  each  other  so  as  to  have  the  whole  booty.  On  this 
side  are  set  up  the  two  big  pillars  taken  from  the  church  of 
Saint-Saba  at  St.  John  of  Acre  :  they  are  covered  with  fantastic 
ornaments  and  inscriptions  in  Cufic  characters,  which  are 
somewhat  strange  and  undecipherable.  A  little  further  on,  at 
the  angle  of  the  basilica,  there  is  a  very  large  block  of  porphyry 
in  the  shape  of  a  column's  stump,  with  a  socle  and  capital  of 
white  marble  ;  it  used  to  be  used  by  way  of  a  pillory  for 
bankrupts.  This  custom  has  fallen  into  desuetude  ;  never- 
theless, it  is  not  used  as  a  seat,  and  the  Venetians,  prompt  to 
rest  on  the  first  socle  or  staircase,  seem  to  fight  shy  of  it.  A  door 
of  bronze  leading  to  the  chapel  of  the  Baptistery,  occupies  the 
lower  part  of  the  first  arcade  ;  it  has  for  impost  a  window  with 
small  columns,  with  the  ogival  point  and  four-leaved  trefoils  ; 
two  shields  of  light-hued  enamel,  one  with  a  cross  on  it,  and 
a  rosace  worked  like  fishes'  scales,  complete  the  decoration  of 
the  tympanum.  A  mosaic  of  St.  Vitus  in  a  niche,  and  an 
evangelist  holding  a  book  and  a  pen  are  designed  on  the 
lower  points  of  the  arcade.  A  small  pediment  in  Renaissance 
style,  and  panels  of  white,  broken  by  a  green  cross,  fill  the 
empty  space  of  the  second  porch.  A  bench  in  red  brocatella 
of  Verona,  at  the  foot  of  this  species  of  facade  in  the  rough, 
offers  a  comfortable  seat  to  the  idler  or  dreamer,  who,  his  feet 
in  the  sun,  and  his  head  in  the  shade — after  Zafari's  recipe  for 
comfort — thinks  of  nothing  or  of  everything,  while  he  gazes  at 
the  loggia  of  Sansovino  by  the  base  of  the  Campanile,  or  the 
blue  sea,  or  the  isle  of  St.  George  at  the  end  of  the  Piazzetta. 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     147 

On  the  capital  of  verde  antique  which  supports  this  arcade, 
crouch  two  apocalyptic  monsters,  the  extravagant  forms  of 
which  St.  John  caught  a  glimpse  in  the  hallucinations  of  the 
island  of  Patmos  :  one,  with  a  bent  beak  like  that  of  an  eagle, 
holds  a  little  heifer  with  limbs  drawn  in  under  it ;  the  other, 
part  lion,  part  griffin,  has  its  claws  in  the  body  of  a  child 
turned  sideways  ;  one  of  the  claws  seems  to  tear  the  eye  of  the 
victim.  The  angle  is  formed  by  a  thick-set  column  which  is 
detached  by  and  carries  a  bundle  of  five  small  columns  on  its 
broad  capital.  On  the  ceiling  of  the  open  arch  (covered  with 
slabs  of  various  marble)  there  is  an  eagle  in  mosaic  holding  a 
book  in  its  clutch.  The  second  storey  has  on  the  gables  of 
the  arcades  two  finely  conceived  statues  representing  the 
cardinal  virtues  :  Force  caressing  a  pet  lion  leaping  up  like  a 
good-humoured  dog,  and  Fortitude  holding  a  sword  with  the 
mien  of  a  Bradamante.  The  sacristan  prefers  to  call  one  of 
them  Venice,  and  the  other  the  Queen  of  Sheba.  Amid  the 
riches  presented  to  the  passer-by  in  this  angle  of  the  basilica, 
are  encrusted  malachite,  varied  enamels  ;  two  little  angels  in 
mosaic  unfolding  a  cloth  with  the  impression  of  the  Saviour ; 
a  tall  barbaric  Madonna  showing  her  child  to  the  adoration 
of  the  faithful,  and  with  two  lamps  on  each  side,  which  are  lit 
every  night ;  a  bas-relief  of  peacocks  spreading  their  fans, 
this  perhaps  a  relic  of  some  ancient  temple  of  Juno  ;  a 
St.  Christopher  with  his  burden  ;  and  capitals  of  the  most 
charming  fancy  joined  in  a  bouquet.  Such  are  the  riches 
shown  by  this  side  of  the  basilica  to  those  passing  in  the 
Piazzetta. 

IV 

The  other  lateral  side  is  towards  a  small  square,  which  is  a 
continuation  of  the  Piazza.  At  the  entrance  to  this  square 
are  crouching  two  lions  of  red  marble,  cousins-german  to 
those  of  the  Alhambra  by  reason  of  the  artless  fancy  of  the 
forms  and  the  grotesque  fierceness  of  their  snouts  and  manes. 
They  have  been  worn  to  perfect  smoothness,  for  since  time  im- 
memorial the  small  ne'er-do-weels  of  the  town  spend  their  time 
in  climbing  on  them  and  playing  horses.  At  the  end  of  the 
square  rises  the  palace  of  the  patriarch  of  Venice ;  it  is  of 
recent  date,  and  would  be  an  unpleasant  sight,  were  it  not  lost 
in  the  shadow  of  St.  Mark's.  On  the  other  side  of  the  square 
is  the  fagade  of  the  church  of  St.  Basso.  This  side  of  the 
Basilica  has  less  ornament  than  the  other,  but  it  is  crowded 


148  THE  BOOK  OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

with  discs,  mosaics  and  enamels,  frames,  arabesques  of  all 
times  and  schools,  birds,  peacocks,  weird  eagles  like  the 
alerions  and  martlets  of  heraldry.  The  lion  of  St.  Mark's 
also  plays  his  part  in  this  symbolic  menagerie;  the  empty 
space  of  the  porches  is  filled  either  with  small  windows  sur- 
rounded by  palms  and  arabesques,  or  by  incrustations  of 
antique  or  Byzantine  fragments ;  in  these  medallions  are 
sculptured  men  and  animals  fighting.  If  we  searched  care- 
fully, we  might  find  the  bull  being  killed  by  the  priest  as  a 
sacrifice  to  Mithras,  for  no  religion  is  lacking  in  this  innocently 
Pantheistic  temple.  At  any  rate,  here  is  Ceres  looking  for 
her  lost  child,  a  lighted  pine-torch  in  each  hand ;  she  is  in  a 
chariot  drawn  by  two  rearing  dragons.  We  might  call  it  a 
Hindu  idol,  so  archaic  is  the  style  and  so  like  the  sculptures 
of  Persepolis  :  it  makes  a  curious  pendant  to  Abraham's  Sacri- 
fice in  bas-relief,  a  work  as  early  as  the  earliest  primitive 
Christian  art.  Another  bas-relief  shows  two  flocks  of  sheep, 
six  on  each  side,  looking  at  a  throne  and  separated  by  two 
palm-branches ;  this  gave  us  matter  for  thought,  but  with 
every  desire  to  fathom  its  meaning,  we  could  not  decipher  the 
supposedly  ex[)lanatory  inscription  in  Gothic  or  Greek  letters. 
The  sheep  may  possibly  be  kine,  and  then  the  subject  of  the 
bas-relief  would  be  the  dream  of  Pharaoh.  An  antique  frag- 
ment, let  into  the  wall  a  little  further  on,  shows  one  initiated 
in  the  mysteries  of  Eleusis  placing  a  crown  on  the  mystic 
palm  ;  but  this  does  not  prevent  a  St.  George  filling  the  archi- 
volt  on  a  throne  of  Greek  design,  and  the  four  evangelists, 
Mark,  John,  Luke,  and  Matthew  also  continue  their  way  on 
the  tympanum,  the  gables,  and  ceilings,  either  alone  or  accom- 
panied by  symbolic  animals.  The  porch  which  opens  in  the 
arm  of  the  cross  formed  by  the  basilica  is  surrounded  by  a 
broad  band,  hollowed,  undercut,  and  chiselled,  a  charming 
garland  of  foliage,  leafage,  and  angels;  a  sweet  Virgin  forms 
the  key  of  the  arch ;  above  the  door  an  ogive  curves  in  the 
shape  of  a  heart,  sloping  at  the  base  like  those  of  the  mosque 
of  Cordova  :  this  is  an  Arabian  fancy  which  needs  and  receives 
the  counteraction  of  a  charming  Nativity  composed  with  the 
most  Christian  unction.  Beyond,  we  can  only  mention  a  St. 
Christopher;  apostles  and  angels  in  a  framework  of  white  and 
red  marble  in  chequers ;  and  a  beautiful  statue  of  Our  Lady 
seen  full-face,  placed  between  two  adoring  angels  and  opening 
her  hands  as  if  to  bless. —  Thcophile  Gautier. 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE    ADRIATIC     149 


San  Marco  (the  Interior) 

The  basilica  of  St.  Mark's,  as  if  it  were  an  ancient  temple, 
has  an  atrium  which  in  itself  would  be  a  church  elsewhere, 
and  which  deserves  particular  attention.  After  passing  the 
portal,  we  may  first  look  at  a  slab  of  red  marble  which  breaks 
the  complicated  design  of  the  pavement ;  it  marks  the  spot 
where  the  Emperor  Frederic  Barbarossa  knelt  before  Alex- 
ander III.,  saying,  Non  tibi^  sed  Fetro  ;  and  the  proud  Pope 
haughtily  replied,  Et  Fetro  et  mihi.  .  .  .  The  three  doors,  in- 
crusted  and  inlaid  with  silver  and  covered  with  figurines  and 
ornaments,  lead  into  the  nave,  and  come,  it  is  said,  from  St. 
Sophia  in  Constantinople.  One  of  them  is  signed  by  Leon 
de  Molino.  At  the  end  of  the  vestibule,  on  the  right,  is  seen 
through  a  grating  the  chapel  of  Zeno,  with  its  retable  and 
tomb  of  bronze.  The  statue  of  the  Virgin,  placed  between 
St.  John  the  Baptist  and  St.  Peter,  is  called  the  Madonna 
della  Scarpa,  the  Madonna  of  the  shoe,  because  of  the  golden 
buskin  placed  on  the  foot  so  often  kissed  by  the  faithful.  All 
this  metal  ornamentation  has  a  severe  and  strange  aspect. 


The  vault  of  the  atrium,  rounded  into  cupolas,  presents  the 
history  of  the  Old  Testament  in  mosaic.  Here  are  shown — 
for  all  religious  history  begins  by  a  cosmogony — the  seven 
days  of  the  creation  according  to  the  account  in  Genesis, 
distributed  in  concentric  compartments.  The  barbarous 
archaism  of  the  style  has  a  mystery  and  primitive  weirdness 
that  well  suits  these  sacred  representations.  The  drawing  in 
its  severity  has  the  absoluteness  of  a  dogma,  and  seems  rather 
a  hieroglyph  expressing  a  mystery  than  a  reproduction  of 
nature.  This  gives  these  rude  Gothic  pictures  an  authority 
and  a  power  which  more  perfect  works  do  not  possess.  The 
blue  starred  globes,  the  discs  of  gold  and  silver  figuring  the 
firmament,  the  sun  and  the  moon,  the  confused  stripes  which 
symbolise  the  separation  of  earth  and  water,  the  strange 
personage  whose  hand  brings  forth  animals  and  trees  of 
chimerical  forms,  and  who  leans  like  a  mesmerist  over  the 
first  man  in  his  sleep  and  draws  the  woman  from  his  side, 
the  mixture  of  angular  design  and  daring  colour,  seize  our 
sight  and  our  thoughts  as  would  an  arabesque  of  a  profound 


150  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

symbolism.  Verses  of  the  Bible  traced  in  antique  characters, 
complicated  by  abbreviations  and  breaks  add  to  the  hieroglyphic 
and  creational  appearance  :  truly  we  see  a  world  forming  itself 
out  of  chaos.  The  Tree  of  the  knowledge  of  good  and  evil, 
the  Temptation,  the  Fall,  the  dismissal  from  earthly  Paradise 
complete  this  cosmogonic  and  primitive  cycle,  the  semi- 
divine  epoch  of  humanity. 

Further  on,  Cain  slays  Abel  after  his  sacrifice  is  rejected 
by  the  Lord.  Adam  and  Eve  are  ploughing  the  earth  in  the 
sweat  of  their  brow.  The  legend  Increase  arid  rnultiply  is 
quaintly  rendered  by  a  couple  embraced  on  a  bed  whose 
curtain  is  raised,  and  which  seems  to  us  of  an  advanced  style 
of  furniture  for  the  period.  The  four  columns  set  against  the 
wall  above  these  mosaics — for  ornament,  since  they  support 
nothing — are  of  the  very  rare  white  and  black  marble  from 
the  East ;  they  came  from  Jerusalem,  where,  according  to 
tradition,  they  were  in  Solomon's  Temple.  The  architect, 
Hiram,  certainly  would  not  find  them  out  of  place  in  the 
cathedral  of  St.  Mark's.  In  the  next  vault,  Noah,  by  God's 
order,  and  to  avoid  the  Deluge,  is  building  an  ark  to  which  all 
the  animals  of  the  world  are  going  in  couples:  an  admirable 
subject  for  a  naive  worker  in  mosaic  of  the  thirteenth  century. 
Nothing  is  more  curious  than  the  display  on  the  golden  ground 
of  this  fantastic  zoology,  which  is  not  far  removed  from 
heraldry,  from  arabesque,  and  from  the  signs  of  travelling 
menageries.  The  Deluge  is  most  terrible  and  lugubrious,  and 
very  different  from  the  highly  praised  conception  of  Poussin ; 
the  crests  of  the  waves  mingle  wildly  with  the  threads  of  rain, 
which  are  not  unlike  the  teeth  of  a  comb  \  the  raven,  the 
dove,  the  going  forth  and  the  giving  of  thanks — nothing  is 
lacking.  Here  ends  the  antediluvian  cycle ;  verses  of  the 
Bible  wind  everywhere  like  the  inscriptions  of  the  Alhambra, 
and  form  part  of  the  decorative  scheme,  explaining  each  phase 
of  this  vanished  world.  The  idea  is  always  near  the  image, 
the  Word  everywhere  encroaches  on  its  plastic  representation. 

The  story — momentarily  interrupted  by  the  entrance, 
which  has  several  mosaics  of  the  Virgin  with  archangels  and 
prophets — continues  beneath  the  next  vault.  Here  Noah 
plants  the  vine  and  lies  drunken,  and  the  separation  of 
races  follows.  Japhet,  Shem,  and  Ham,  shadowed  by  a 
father's  curse,  each  fathers  a  human  family.  The  tower  of 
Babel  lifts  to  heaven  the  queer  anachronism  of  its  Byzantine 
architecture,  which  draws  the  attention  of  the  Deity  alarmed 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS    OF   THE   ADRIATIC     151 

to  find  Himself  so  nearly  approached.  The  confusion  of 
tongues  forces  the  workers  to  cease  from  the  attempt ;  the 
human  race,  till  then  one  and  speaking  one  tongue,  must 
begin  its  long  wanderings  in  the  unknown  world  to  find  its 
lost  title-deeds  and  refashion  itself.  The  next  cupolas,  the 
first  placed  in  the  vestibule  and  the  others  in  the  gallery  facing 
the  place  of  Lions,  contain  the  history  of  the  patriarch  Abraham 
in  all  its  details,  with  that  of  Joseph  and  of  Moses,  the 
whole  accompanied  by  prophets,  priests,  evangelists,  Isaiah, 
Jeremiah,  Ezekiel,  Elijah,  Samuel,  Habukkuk,  St.  Alipius, 
St.  Simeon,  and  a  host  of  others  who  are  grouped  or  isolated 
in  the  arches,  or  the  pendentives,  in  the  keys  of  the  vault — 
anywhere  where  a  figure  can  be  placed  without  regard  to  its 
ease  or  its  anatomy.  .  .  . 

II 

At  the  end  of  this  gallery,  in  the  tympanum  of  a  door, 
we  greatly  admired  a  Madonna  seated  on  a  throne  between 
St.  John  and  St.  Peter,  and  offering  the  child  Jesus  to  the 
faithful.  .  .  .  Let  us  go  into  the  chapel  of  the  Baptistery, 
which  is  only  connected  with  the  cathedral  by  a  communicat- 
ing door.  .  .  .  The  cupola  represents  Jesus  Christ  in  His 
glory,  surrounded  by  a  vast  wheel  of  heads  and  wings  dis- 
posed in  circles.  AH  this  glitters,  palpitates,  quivers,  flames, 
and  changes  marvellously  :  angels,  archangels,  thrones,  domina- 
tions, virtues,  powers,  principalities,  cherubim,  seraphim,  are 
piled  up  as  oval  heads,  crossing  their  diapered  wings  so  as 
to  form  a  kind  of  immense  rosace  with  the  colour  of  a  Turkey 
carpet.  At  the  feet  of  Power  the  enchained  devil  writhes, 
and  Death  vanquished  falls  before  Christ  the  conqueror.  The 
next  cupola,  of  a  most  singular  aspect,  shows  the  twelve 
apostles  each  baptizing  the  gentiles  of  a  different  country. 
The  catechumens,  according  to  the  old  usage,  are  plunged  m 
a  basin  or  tub  up  to  the  armpits,  and  their  lack  of  perspective 
gives  them  constrained  attitudes  and  piteous  countenances, 
which  make  the  baptism  seem  a  punishment.  The  apostles, 
with  wide- opened  eyes,  and  hard  and  rough  features,  appear 
like  executioners  or  torturers.  Four  doctors  of  the  Church, 
St.  Jerome,  St.  Gregory,  St.  Augustin,  and  St.  Ambrose,  fill 
the  pendentives.  The  black  crosses  with  which  their  dalmatics 
are  covered  have  a  sinister  and  funereal  look. 

This  character  belongs  to  the  entire  chapel.     The  mosaics 


152  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

are  of  great  antiquity,  the  oldest  in  the  church,  and  have 
a  fierce  barbarity  which  indicates  a  relentless  and  savage 
Christianity.  In  the  arch  of  the  vault,  there  is  a  big  medallion 
showing  Christ  under  a  terrible  aspect ;  it  is  not  the  fair 
and  beautiful  Christ,  the  blue-eyed  young  Nazarene  whom  we 
know,  but  a  severe  and  formidable  Christ,  with  a  beard  which 
falls  in  grey  masses  like  that  of  God  the  Father,  whose  age  the 
Christ  takes,  for  Father  and  Son  are  co-eternal.  Wrinkles  as 
of  eternal  age  seam  His  forehead,  and  the  lips  are  contracted 
as  if  ready  to  cast  out  an  anathema.  .  .  . 

Ill 

Let  us  now  go  into  the  basilica.  The  door  has  over  it  a 
St.  Mark  in  pontifical  dress,  by  the  brothers  Zuccati,  about 
whom  Georges  Sand  wrote  her  charming  story  of  the  Master 
Mosaic  Workers.  This  mosaic  has  a  brilliancy  which  makes 
it  easily  understood  how  jealous  rivals  accused  the  clever 
artists  of  using  pigments  instead  of  keeping  to  ordinary 
methods.  The  impost  within  is  a  Christ  between  His  mother 
and  St.  John  the  Baptist,  of  the  best  style  of  the  later  empire. 
We  hasten  to  say  that  it  is  in  a  fine  style  in  order  not  to  keep 
the  eyes  any  longer  from  the  admirable  spectacle  now  to  be 
seen.  Nothing  can  compare  with  St.  Mark  at  Venice ;  neither 
Cologne,  nor  Strasburg,  nor  Seville,  nor  even  Cordova  with  its 
mosque.  The  effect  is  surprising  and  magical,  the  first  im- 
pression being  of  a  golden  cavern  encrusted  with  precious 
stones,  splendidly  sombre  and  yet  brilliant  with  all  its  mystery. 
Do  we  stand  in  a  building  or  in  a  vast  jewel-casket?  is  what 
we  ask,  for  every  conception  of  architecture  comes  short  of 
the  reality.  The  cupolas,  the  vaults,  the  architraves,  the  wall 
spaces,  are  covered  with  little  cubes  of  gilded  crystals  made  at 
Murano,  whose  brilliancy  is  lasting,  and  on  which  the  light 
glitters  as  on  the  scales  of  a  fish,  while  they  give  the  back- 
ground to  the  inexhaustible  fancy  of  the  mosaic  artists. 
Where  the  ground  of  gold  stops  at  the  top  of  the  columns 
there  starts  a  covering  of  the  most  precious  and  varied 
marbles.  From  the  vault  hangs  a  great  lamp  in  the  form  of 
a  cross  with  four  arms  on  whose  points  are  fleiirs  de  lis ;  it  is 
suspended  from  a  golden  ball  cut  filigree  fashion  ;  when  it  is 
lit  it  has  a  wonderful  effect  like  that  which  the  kaleidoscope 
has  made  popular.  Six  columns  of  ribboned  alabaster  with 
capitals  of  gilded  bronze  and  of  a  fantastic  corinthian  order, 


k 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF  THE   ADRIATIC     153 

support  the  graceful  arcades  on  which  runs  the  tribune  which 
goes  almost  round  the  entire  church.  The  cupola  forms,  with 
the  Dove  for  its  central  point,  its  rays  for  spokes,  and  the 
twelve  apostles  for  the  circumference,  an  immense  wheel  in 
mosaic. 

In  the  pendentives,  tall  and  serious  angels  have  their  black 
wings  in  relief  against  a  ground  of  yellow  sheen.  The  central 
dome,  which  opens  over  the  intersection  of  the  arms  of  the 
Greek  cross  which  is  designed  by  the  plan  of  the  cathedral, 
shows  in  its  vast  cup  Jesus  Christ  sitting  on  a  spheral  arc, 
amid  a  starry  circle  supported  by  two  pairs  of  seraphim. 
Above  Him  the  divine  mother,  standing  between  two  angels, 
adores  her  Son  in  His  glory,  and  the  apostles,  separated  by  a 
quaint  tree  which  symbolises  the  Garden  of  Olives,  make  a 
celestial  court  about  their  Master.  The  theological  and 
cardinal  virtues  have  their  niches  in  the  spaces  between  the 
pillars  of  the  smaller  dome  which  lights  the  vault ;  the  four 
evangelists,  seated  in  closets  of  the  form  of  castles,  write  their 
precious  books  underneath  the  pendentives,  whose  extreme 
points  are  occupied  by  emblematic  figures  pouring  forth  from 
urns  inclined  on  their  shoulders  the  four  rivers  of  Paradise : 
Gehon,  Pison,  Tigris,  and  Euphr(ates.  Further  on,  in  the  next 
cupola  whose  centre  has  a  medallion  of  the  mother  of  God, 
the  four  animals  attendant  on  the  evangelists,  for  this  occasion 
freed  from  the  care  of  their  masters,  are  guarding  the  sacred 
manuscripts  in  chimerical  and  threatening  attitudes  with  an 
excess  of  teeth,  claws,  and  big  eyes  which  would  show  fight 
against  the  dragons  of  the  Hesperides.  At  the  end  of  the 
demi-cupola,  which  gleams  vaguely  behind  the  grand  altar,  the 
Saviour  is  delineated  in  a  gigantic  and  disproportionate  figure 
which  shows,  according  to  Byzantine  tradition,  the  distance 
between  the  person  of  deity  and  the  feeble  creature.  Even 
like  the  Olympian  Jove,  this  Christ  if  He  arose  would  carry 
away  the  vault  of  His  temple. 

The  atrium  of  the  Basilica,  as  we  have  shown,  is  filled 
with  illustrations  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  interior  contains 
the  entire  New  Testament,  with  the  Apocalypse  for  epilogue. 
The  cathedral  of  St.  Mark  is  a  big  illuminated  Bible,  historied, 
illuminated,  and  decorated,  a  mediaeval  missal  on  a  grand 
scale.  Since  eight  centuries  the  citizens  have  pored  over  the 
pages  of  this  monument  as  if  it  were  a  picture-book,  without 
any  sense  of  fatigue  breaking  its  pious  admiration.  Every- 
where near  the  picture  is  the  text ;  the  inscriptions  rise  and 


154  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

fall  or  run  round  about  in  the  form  of  legends  in  Greek, 
Latin,  leonine  verses,  versicles,  sentences,  names,  monograms, 
specimens  of  the  calligraphy  of  all  countries  and  all  times ; 
everywhere  the  old  black  letter  traces  its  script  on  the  page  of 
gold  in  between  the  jambs  of  the  mosaic.  The  whole  edifice 
is  rather  a  temple  of  the  Word  than  the  church  of  St.  Mark, 
an  intellectual  temple  which,  without  caring  for  any  particular 
order  of  architecture,  builds  itself  up  on  the  verses  of  the  old 
and  new  faith,  and  finds  its  ornamentation  in  the  exposition  of 
doctrine. 

IV 

We  do  not  seek  to  give  any  detailed  description  of  the 
building,  for  that  would  be  a  treatise  in  itself,  but  we  would  at 
least  endeavour  to  render  the  impression  of  astonishment  and 
confusion  produced  by  the  world  of  angels,  apostles,  evangelists, 
prophets,  saints,  doctors,  and  figures  of  every  kind  which 
people  the  cupolas,  ceilings,  tympana,  projecting  arches,  pillars, 
pendentives,  and  the  least  plane  of  wall-space.  Here  the  genea- 
logical tree  of  the  Virgin  spreads  in  tufted  branches  whose 
fruits  are  kings  and  holy  personages,  filling  a  vast  panel  with 
its  strange  growth  :  there  shines  a  Paradise  of  glory  with 
legions  of  angels  and  blessed  ones.  This  chapel  contains  the 
history  of  the  Virgin  ;  this  vault  unfolds  all  the  drama  of  the 
Passion,  from  the  kiss  of  Judas  to  the  Apparition  before  the 
holy  women,  with  the  intervening  episodes  of  the  agonies  in 
the  Garden  of  Olives  and  of  Calvary.  All  those  who  have 
borne  witness  for  Jesus,  either  by  prophecy,  by  preaching,  or 
by  martyrdom  are  admitted  into  this  most  Christian  Pantheon. 
There  is  St.  Peter  crucified  head  downward,  St.  Thomas 
before  the  Indian  king  Gondoforo,  St.  Andrew  suffering 
martyrdom.  None  of  the  servants  of  Christ  are  forgotten, 
not  even  St.  Bacchus.  The  Greek  saints  of  whom  we  know 
so  little — we  of  the  Latin  Church — come  to  increase  this 
sacred  gathering.  St.  Phocas,  St.  Dimitri,  St.  Procopius,  St. 
Mermagoras,  St.  Euphemia,  St.  Erasmus,  St.  Dorothea,  St. 
Thekla,  all  the  fair  exotic  flowers  of  the  Greek  calendar — 
which  we  could  believe  to  be  painted  after  the  receipts  of  the 
manual  of  the  monk  of  Aghia-Laura — blossom  on  trees  of 
precious  stones. 

At  certain  hours,  when  the  shadows  thicken  and  the  sun 
only  casts  one  ray  of  light  obliquely  under  the  vaults  of  the 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF  THE   ADRIATIC     155 

cupolas,  strange  effects  rise  for  the  eye  of  the  poet  and 
visionary.  Brazen  lightnings  flash  suddenly  from  the  golden 
backgrounds.  Little  cubes  of  crystal  gleam  here  and  there 
like  the  sunlit  sea  :  the  outlines  of  the  figures  tremble  in  their 
golden  field ;  the  silhouettes  which  were  just  before  so  clearly 
marked  become  troubled  and  mingled  to  the  eye.  The  harsh 
folds  on  the  dalmatics  seem  to  soften  and  take  movement ; 
mysterious  life  glides  into  these  motionless  Byzantine  figures  ; 
fixed  eyes  turn,  arms  with  Egyptian  hierarchic  gestures  move, 
sealed  feet  begin  to  walk  ;  the  eight  wings  of  cherubim  revolve 
like  wheels  ;  the  angels  unfold  the  long  wings  of  azure  and 
purple  which  an  implacable  mosaic  holds  to  the  wall;  the 
genealogical  tree  shakes  its  leaves  of  green  marble ;  the  lion 
of  St.  Mark  stretches  himself,  yawns,  and  licks  his  paw  and 
claws ;  the  eagle  sharpens  his  beak  and  sleeks  his  plumage  ;  the 
ox  turns  on  his  litter,  and  ruminates  as  he  chews  his  cud.  The 
martyrs  rise  from  the  gridirons  where  their  cross  is  marked. 
The  prophets  chat  with  the  evangelists.  The  doctors  instruct 
the  youthful  saints,  who  smile  with  their  porphyry  lips ;  men  of 
mosaic  become  processions  of  phantoms  which  climb  up  and 
down  the  side  of  the  walls,  which  perambulate  the  tribunes, 
and  pass  before  us  shaking  the  gilded  hair  of  their  glory. 

We  feel  an  astonishment  producing  the  dizziness  of  hal- 
lucination. The  real  spirit  of  the  cathedral,  the  profound, 
mysterious,  and  solemn  meaning  of  it  then  becomes  manifest. 
The  cathedral  seems  as  if  it  belonged  to  a  pre-Christian 
Christianity,  to  a  Church  founded  before  religion  existed. 
The  ages  fade  into  the  perspective  of  the  Infinite. — Th'cophile 
Gaiitier. 

The  Ducal  Palace 

The  Ducal  Palace  outshines  all  else  as  though  it  were  a 
single  diamond  set  in  a  tiara.  I  do  not  wish  to  attempt  a 
description,  only  a  eulogy.  I  have  never  seen  such  archi- 
tecture ;  everything  is  new  and  unconventional,  and  I  begin 
to  see  that  outside  of  the  classic  and  Gothic  forms  which  we 
repeat  and  which  are  forced  on  us,  there  is  a  whole  world. 
Human  invention  knows  no  limits,  and  like  nature  can  violate 
all  rules  and  produce  perfect  work  in  defiance  of  the  models 
it  is  told  to  imitate.  Every  habit  of  the  eye  is  contraried  here, 
and  it  is  a  delightful  surprise  to  see  oriental  fancy  placing 
what  is  heavy  on  what  is  light,  instead  of  what  is  light  on 
what  is  heavy.     A  columnade  of  robust  shafts  bears  a  second 


iS6  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

and  lighter  one,  decorated  with  ogives  and  trefoils,  and  on 
this  frail  support  expands  a  massive  wall  of  red  and  white 
marble,  whose  courses  are  interlaced  symmetrically,  and  reflect 
the  light.  Above,  a  cornice  of  triangular  openings,  of  pin- 
nacles, spiracles,  and  festoons,  cuts  the  sky  with  its  edges, 
and  this  foliation  of  marble— interwoven  and  blossoming 
above  the  rose  or  pearl  tones  of  the  facade — makes  us  think 
of  the  rich  cactus  which,  in  its  native  Africa  or  America, 
commingles  the  daggers  of  its  leaves  with  the  purple  of  its 
flowers. 

We  enter,  and  at  once  the  vision  is  filled  with  forms. 
About  two  cisterns,  covered  with  sculptured  bronze,  four 
facades  show  forth  their  statues  and  architectural  details  with 
all  the  youth  of  the  early  Renaissance.  There  is  nothing  that 
is  bare  and  cold,  everything  is  covered  with  statues  and  reliefs  ; 
the  pedantry  of  learning  or  of  criticism  not  having  intervened, 
on  the  pretext  of  severity  or  correctness,  to  restrain  the  fire  of 
the  imagination  or  the  desire  of  giving  pleasure  to  the  eye. 
Venice  knew  no  austerity ;  it  did  not  live  by  literary  rules,  nor 
force  itself  to  come  and  yawningly  admire  a  fa9ade  sanctioned 
by  Vitruvius ;  it  wished  architecture  to  possess  and  delight 
every  faculty,  and  decked  it  with  ornament,  column,  and 
statue,  made  it  a  thing  of  riches  and  joy.  Pagan  colossi  of 
Mars  and  Neptune  were  used  as  well  as  the  scriptural  figures 
of  Adam  and  Eve ;  fifteenth-century  sculptors  create  life  in 
lank  and  realistic  bodies,  and  those  of  the  sixteenth  century 
throw  out  agitated  and  powerful  figures.  Rizzo  and  Sansovino 
set  uj)  here  the  precious  marbles  of  their  stairways,  the  delicate 
stucco-work  and  graceful  ca[)rices  of  their  arabesques  abound- 
ing in  armour  and  branches,  griffins  and  fawns,  fanciful  flowers, 
and  capering  goats,  a  profusion  of  poetical  flowers  and  joy- 
fully leaping  beasts.  We  go  up  these  princely  stairs  with  a 
kind  of  tjmid  respect,  ashamed  of  our  sad  black  coat,  which 
reminds  us  of  the  contrast  of  embroidered  silk  gowns,  of  the 
pompously  flowing  dalmatics,  the  Byzantine  tiaras  and  bus- 
kins— the  seigneurial  magnificence  for  which  these  marble 
steps  were  intended.  At  the  top  of  the  flight  w^e  are  greeted 
by  a  St.  Mark  of  Tintoretto,  hurtling  through  the  air  like 
ancient  Saturn,  with  two  superb  women.  Force  and  Justice, 
and  a  doge  who  receives  from  them  the  sword  of  leadership 
and  of  warfare.  Beyond  this,  the  stairway  opens  on  the  halls 
of  government  and  of  state,  both  lined  with  paintings :  the 
masterpieces  of  Tintoretto,  Veronese,  Pordenone,  Palma  the 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     157 

younger,  Titian,  Bonifacio,  and  twenty  others  cover  the  walls 
and  ceihngs,  whose  design  and  decoration  is  due  to  Palladio, 
Aspetti,  Scamozzi,  and  Sansovino.  All  the  genius  of  the  city 
at  its  grandest  period  met  here  to  glorify  the  mother-state 
in  setting  up  the  memorial  of  its  victories  and  the  apotheosis 
of  its  splendour.  There  is  no  such  trophy  in  the  world  as 
these  sea-fights,  with  ships  with  curved  prows  like  swans' 
necks,  galleys  with  crowded  banks  of  oars,  battlements  hurling 
forth  showers  of  arrows,  standards  floating  among  masts, 
tumultuous  strife  of  combatants  who  rush  against  each  other 
or  fall  into  the  sea,  crowds  of  Illyrians,  Saracens,  and  Greeks, 
with  their  bodies  bronzed  by  the  sun  and  torn  by  struggle, 
stuffs  worked  with  thread  of  gold,  damascened  armour,  silks 
starred  with  pearls — all  the  strange  medley  of  the  heroic  and 
luxurious  pomp  which  goes  in  history  from  Zara  to  Damietta, 
and  from  Padua  to  the  Dardanelles.  Here  and  there  are  the 
grandly  allegorical  figures  of  goddesses ;  in  the  corners  the 
Virtues  of  Pordenone,  colossal  viragoes,  they  might  be  called, 
with  Herculean  bodies  that  are  sanguine  and  choleric ;  every- 
where there  riots  virile  strength,  active  energy,  and  sensual  joy, 
and  to  prepare  us  for  this  astounding  procession  is  the  most 
vast  of  modern  pictures,  the  Paradise  of  Tintoretto,  eighty 
feet  broad  by  twenty-four  high,  where  six  hundred  figures 
whirl  in  a  ruddy  light  like  the  ardent  fire  of  a  conflagration. 

The  intellect  is,  as  it  were,  blinded  and  subdued ;  the 
senses  fail.  We  pause  and  close  our  eyes ;  in  a  few  minutes 
we  can  choose,  and  I  only  really  saw  one  picture  to-day,  the 
Triianph  of  Venice  by  Veronese.  This  work  is  more  than  a 
feast  for  the  eye,  it  is  a  banquet.  In  the  midst  of  wonderful 
architecture  of  balconies  and  columns,  fair-haired  Venice  sits 
on  a  throne,  radiant  with  beauty  and  the  fresh  roseate  com- 
plexion which  belongs  to  young  women  in  damp  climates. 
Her  silk  skirt  spreads  out  from  a  silken  mantle,  and  around 
her  is  a  circle  of  girls,  leaning  with  voluptuous  and  yet 
haughty  smiles,  with  the  strange  Venetian  fascination,  that  of 
a  goddess  who  has  the  blood  of  a  courtesan  in  her  veins,  but 
who  walks  on  the  clouds  and  draws  men  to  her  instead  of 
falling  to  their  level.  Out  of  their  draperies  of  pale  violet,  their 
mantles  of  blue  and  gold,  their  living  flesh,  their  backs  and 
shoulders  catch  the  light  or  melt  into  the  half-tone,  and  the 
rounded  softness  of  their  nudity  harmonises  with  the  peaceful 
happiness  of  their  attitudes  and  expressions.  Amid  them  all, 
Venice,  ostentatious  and  yet  benign,  seems  a  queen  whose 


158  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

royalty  gives  her  the  certain  right  of  happiness,  and  whose 
sole  glance  gives  that  right  to  others,  while  two  angels  bend- 
ing down  in  the  air  place  a  crown  upon  her  serene  head. — 
Taiyie. 

The  Campanile  of  St.  Mark's 

Several  incidental  references  to  the  Bell-tower  will  be 
found  in  our  extracts,  but  at  the  very  period  when  we  were 
still  seeking  a  detailed  description  of  it,  the  unhappy  news  of 
its  fall  was  made  public  in  the  following  laconic  dispatch  from 
Reuter : — 

"Venice,  \a,Jidy  (10.40  a.m.).^ 

"The  Campanile  of  St.  Mark's  Cathedral,  98  metres  high 
(about  31 S  feet),  has  just  fallen  down  on  to  the  Piazza. 

"  It  collapsed  where  it  stood,  and  is  now  a  heap  of  ruins. 

"The  cathedral  and  the  Doge's  Palace  are  quite  safe. 
Only  a  corner  of  the  royal  palace  is  damaged. 

"  It  is  believed,  but  it  is  not  certain,  that  there  has  been 
no  loss  of  life. 

"  A  cordon  of  troops  is  keeping  the  Piazza  clear." 

The  news  was  all  the  sadder  and  more  surprising  because 
the  end  of  so  considerable  a  monument  cannot  fail  to  remind 
us  that  the  same  fate  may  come  to  other  celebrated  buildings. 
The  tower,  it  is  true,  was  known  to  be  affected,  for  a  crack 
caused  by  a  thunderbolt  in  1745  had  been  ineffectually 
repaired  with  new  bricks,  and  the  reappearing  fissure  had 
been  clamped  up  by  an  iron  band.  This  perhaps  would  not 
be  sufficient  to  bring  about  the  final  collapse,  which  has  been 
attributed  to  the  consolidation  of  the  basis  on  which  the  entire 
city  is  built,  with  a  sinking  of  the  level  computed  at  3^?  inches 
every  hundred  years.  If  this  theory  be  correct,  the  fate  of 
other  buildings  in  the  Piazza  will  only  be  averted  by  timely 
precautions. 

To  give  some  account  of  the  actual  catastrophe  we  venture 
to  borrow  the  account  received  by  the  Times  from  an 
American  architect,  whose  little  daughter  was  an  eye- 
witness : — 

"  Workmen  had  been  repointing  the  Campanile,  and  had 
discovered  a  bad  crack  starting  from  the  crown  of  the  second 
arched  window  on  the  corner  towards  St.  Mark's,  and  extend- 

^  1902. 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS    OF   THE   ADRIATIC     159 

ing  through  the  sixth  window.  This  crack  had  shown  signs  of 
opening  further,  and  they  feared  small  fragments  falling  on 
the  crowded  Piazza ;  so  the  music  was  quietly  stopped  in  the 
hope  that  the  crowd  would  naturally  disperse.  The  effect 
was  exactly  the  opposite  to  that  desired.  Every  one  rushed  to 
the  Piazza.  At  eleven  I  was  under  the  tower  which  rose  in 
the  dim  moonlight.  The  crack  was  distinctly  visible  even  in 
this  half  light,  but  apparently  menaced  only  a  corner  of  the 
tower.  On  Monday,  early,  the  Campanile  was  resplendent  in 
the  sunshine.     At  nine  my  little  girl  Katharine  went  off  with 

her  horns  of  corn  to  feed  the  pigeons.     Mrs. was  at  St. 

Laccana,  and  I  was  near  the  Rialto  sketching.  The  golden 
Angel  on  the  tower  was  shining  far  away.  Suddenly  I  saw  it 
slowly  sink  directly  downward  behind  a  line  of  roofs,  and  a 
dense  grey  dust  rose  in  clouds.  At  once  a  crowd  of  people 
began  running  across  the  Rialto  towards  the  Piazza,  and  I 
ordered  my  gondolier  to  the  Piazzetta.  On  arrival  the  sight 
was  pitiful.  Of  that  splendid  shaft  all  that  remained  was  a 
mound  of  white  dust,  spreading  to  the  walls  of  St.  Mark's. 

"You  have  heard  before  now  how  the  Angel  was  found 
directly  within  the  semi-circle  of  the  central  doorway,  and  how 
the  little  porphyry  column  of  the  iron  band  received  the  brunt 
of  the  blow  of  the  great  marble  blocks  from  above  the  hills 
of  sand  at  the  corner  of  the  Basilica.  All  this  and  the  fact 
that  there  were  no  victims,  not  an  injury  to  any  one,  justifies 
the  feeling  here  that  it  was  a  miracle.  Little  Katharine  was  in 
the  Square,  and  her  account,  like  any  child's,  was  extremely 
circumstantial.  She  says  everything  was  quiet ;  two  men  were 
putting  up  ladders  in  the  tower,  when  suddenly  people  began 
to  cry  out  from  under  the  arches  (it  was  warm  sunlight  and 
the  Piazza  was  empty),  little  puffs  of  white  flew  out  at  the 
height  of  the  first  windows,  great  cracks  started  at  the  base 
and  opened  'like  the  roots  of  a  tree,"  a  fountain  of  bricks 
began  to  fall  all  around  the  walls,  and  she  says  as  she  looked 
she  saw  the  golden  Angel,  upright  and  shining,  slowly  des- 
cending a  full  third  of  the  height  of  the  tower,  when  a  great 
white  cloud  enveloped  it." 

It  took  some  time  to  remove  the  debris  of  so  huge  a  struc- 
ture ;  and  when  the  bricks  were  carried  out  to  sea  in  barges, 
we  are  told  by  another  correspondent  that  "the  whole  affair 
resembled  the  funeral  rites  of  some  ancient  landmark,  and 
many  of  the  participators  were  visibly  affected."  In  some 
ways    the    church    of    St.    Mark's    is    happier    without    the 


i6o  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Campanile,  and  if  the  new  tower  to  be  erected  were  kept  as 
an  early  square  topped  tower  of  brick,  without  any  imitation 
of  the  marble  additions  of  141 7,  the  complete  harmony  of  the 
Piazza  would  be  more  striking.  We  have  quoted  a  brief  note 
from  Goethe  on  the  view  from  the  top  of  the  tower,  which 
The'ophile  Gautier's  description  may  supplement :  "  Leaning 
on  the  balcony,  and  turning  towards  the  sea,  we  first  observe 
the  sculptures  of  Venus,  Neptune,  Mars  and  other  allegorical 
figures  of  the  library  of  Sansovino  .  .  .  next  is  the  leaden  roof 
of  the  Ducal  Palace,  also  the  court  of  the  Zecca  and  the 
Piazzetta,  with  its  columns  and  its  gondolas,  and  its  divided 
pavement ;  further  on,  the  sea  with  its  islands  and  its  landing- 
places.  In  the  foreground  is  to  be  seen  San  Giorgio  Mag- 
giore  with  its  red  belfry,  its  two  white  bastions,  its  anchorage 
and  the  belt  of  ships  attracted  by  the  free  harbour.  A  canal 
separates  it  from  the  Giudecca,  that  maritime  suburb  of  Venice 
which  has  towards  the  town  a  line  of  houses  and  towards  the 
sea  a  fringe  of  gardens.  The  Giudecca  has  two  churches, 
Santa  Maria  and  the  Redentore.  .  .  .  Turning  towards  the 
bottom  of  the  Piazza,  the  prospect  is  as  follows :  the  con- 
tinuation of  the  Giudecca,  the  Dogana  with  a  Fortune  with 
flying  hair  .  .  .  the  Salute  and  its  double  dome ;  the  entrance 
to  the  Grand  Canal,  which,  large  as  it  is,  is  soon  lost  between 
the  houses ;  San  Moise  and  its  belfry,  joined  to  the  church  by 
a  bridge ;  San  Stephano  .  .  .  the  big  reddish  church  of  Santa 
Maria  Gloriosa  dei  Frari,  lifting  beyond  its  roof  an  angular 
porch,  and  the  black  cupola  of  St.  Simon  the  Little.  .  .  . 
The  third  vista  from  the  Campanile  faces  the  tower  of  the 
Clock  and  includes  Santa  Maria  del  Orto,  whose  tall  red 
belfry  and  vast  tiled  roof  is  clearly  seen  ;  the  Holy  Apostles 
.  .  .  and  the  Jesuits'  Church." 

The  bells  of  the  tower  were  five  in  number,  and  their 
music  was  so  well  known  to  Venetians  that  each  bell  had  a 
name  given  to  it.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  great  bell 
was  to  be  rung  to  call  together  the  conspirators  supporting 
the  Doge  Marino  Faliero,  and  Byron  mentions 

"  The  steep  tower  portal, 
Where  swings  the  sullen  huge  oracular  hell, 
Which  never  knells  Init  for  a  princely  death, 
Or  for  a  slate  in  peril." 

The  ascent  of  the  tower  was  by  a  spiral  passage,  so  easily 
graduated  that  Napoleon  I.  is  said  to  have  ridden  his  horse 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     i6i 

up  to  the  top ;  but  Evelyn  long  before  writes  that  he  might 
have  climbed  the  tower  on  horseback  "  as  'tis  said  one  of  the 
French  Kings  did."  Evelyn  states  that  "on  the  top  is  an 
Angel  that  turns  with  the  wind." 

The  reconstruction  of  the  tower  is  now  in  progress,  and 
it  has  been  ascertained  that  the  level  of  the  Piazza  was  raised 
70  centimetres  from  the  time  when  the  bell-tower  was  added 
in  the  sixteenth  century.  The  original  tower  was  built  partly 
of  Roman  bricks  from  the  ruined  city  of  Altinum.  There  is 
no  difficulty  in  restoring  the  tower  in  its  main  structural  lines, 
as  the  drawings  have  all  been  preserved  and  the  bronze 
figures  have  been  but  slightly  damaged. — Ed. 

The  Lion  and  St.  Theodore 

At  the  farther  end  of  this  second  part  of  the  Piazza  of  St. 
Mark,  there  stand  two  marvellous  lofty  pillars  of  marble 
of  equal  height  and  thickness,  very  near  to  the  shore  of  the 
Adriatic  gulf,  the  fairest  certainly  for  height  and  greatness 
that  ever  I  saw  till  then.  For  the  compass  of  them  is  so 
great,  that  I  was  not  able  to  clasp  them  with  both  mine  arms 
at  thrice,  their  diameter  in  thickness  containing  very  near 
four  foot  (as  I  conjecture).  Besides,  they  are  of  such  an 
exceeding  height,  that  I  thought  a  good  while  there  were 
scarce  the  like  to  be  found  in  any  place  of  Christendom,  till 
at  length  I  called  to  my  remembrance  that  wondrous  high 
pillar  in  a  certain  market-place  of  Rome,  on  whose  top  the 
ashes  of  the  Emperor  Trajan  were  once  kept.  For  that 
pillar  was  about  140  foot  high,  but  this,  I  think,  is  scarce 
above  30.  They  are  said  to  be  made  of  Phrygian  marble, 
being  sohd  and  all  one  piece.  These  were  brought  by  sea 
from  Constantinople  far  more  than  four  hundred  years  since. 
Upon  the  top  of  one  of  them  are  advanced  the  arms  of 
Venice,  the  winged  I-ion  made  all  of  brass ;  on  the  other, 
the  statue  of  St.  Theodoras  gilt,  and  standing  upon  a  brazen 
crocodile,  with  a  spear  in  one  hand,  and  a  shield  in  another, 
Coryatt. 

The  Grand  Canal  1 

The  Grand  Canal  is  a  veritable  Golden   Book  on  whose 
monumental  fagade  the  entire  Venetian  nobility  has  signed 
its  name.     Every  block  of  stone  tells  a  tale ;  every  house  is 
^  Described  in  much  detail  by  Ruskin. 


i62  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

a  palace  :  every  palace  a  masterpiece  and  a  legend  :  nt  each 
stroke  of  the  oar  the  gondolier  cites  a  name  which  was  as 
well  known  in  the  time  of  the  Crusades  as  to-day ; — and  all 
this  to  right  and  left  of  us,  for  a  distance  of  more  than  half 
a  league.  .  .  .  On  the  two  sides  the  most  charming  and 
beautiful  facades  stand  in  uninterrupted  succession.  After 
the  architecture  of  the  Renaissance,  with  its  columns  and 
superimposed  orders,  comes  a  mediaeval  palace  in  the 
Moorish-Gothic  manner  of  which  the  Ducal  Palace  is  the 
prototype.  .  .  .  Further  on  is  a  fayade  veneered  with  coloured 
marbles,  adorned  with  medallions  and  brackets ;  then  a 
broad,  rose-coloured  wall  in  which  is  cut  out  a  large  columned 
window.  Every  style  is  here  :  Byzantine,  Saracen,  Lombard, 
Gothic,  Romanesque,  Greek,  and  even  rococo,  column  and 
pillar,  ogive  and  round  arch,  the  fanciful  capital,  o'errun  with  • 
birds  and  flowers,  from  Acre  or  Jafifa,  the  Greek  capital  found 
in  the  ruins  of  Athens,  mosaic  and  bas-relief,  classic  severity 
and  the  graceful  fantasy  of  the  Renaissance.  .  .  . 

Even  before  we  reach  the  Rialto,  on  our  left,  as  we  go 
up  the  canal,  is  the  Dario  palace,  in  the  Gothic  manner, 
the  Venier  palace,  set  sideways,  with  the  ornaments,  precious 
marbles  and  medallions  in  the  Lombard  style  :  the  Belle  Arti, 
a  classic  fac^ade  added  to  the  old  Scuola  della  Carita,  and 
topped  by  a  Venice  riding  a  lion ;  the  Contarini  palace, 
whose  architect  was  Scamozzi ;  the  Rezzonico  palace,  with 
the  three  superimposed  orders;  the  triple  Giustiniani  palace 
in  the  mediaeval  style  .  .  .  the  Foscari  palace,  noticeable 
by  its  low  door,  and  its  two  stages  of  columns  supporting 
ogives  and  trefoils,  where  formerly  were  lodged  the  sovereigns 
who  visited  Venice  .  .  .  the  Balbi  palace,  on  whose  balcony 
the  princes  leant  to  watch  the  regattas  given  with  so  much 
pomp  and  show,  in  the  great  days  of  the  Republic ;  the 
Pisani  palace,  in  the  German  style  of  the  beginning  of  the 
XVth  century.  .  .  .  Near  the  Hotel  de  L'Europe,  there  is 
between  two  large  edifices  a  tiny  palace  which  consists  of 
only  one  window  and  balcony,  but  what  a  window  and 
balcony !  .  .  .  Further  as  we  go  up,  we  see  the  following 
palaces:  the  Corner  della  Ck  Grande,  dating  from  1532, 
one  of  Sansovino's  best  works,  .  .  .  the  Corner-Spinelli ; 
the  Grimani,^  a  robust  and  powerful  edifice  of  Sammicheli, 
.  .   .  the  Farsetti,  with  a  peristyle  with  columns  and  a  long 

*  The  Grimani  stands  somewhat  sideways  ;  the  intention  having  been 
to  leave  a  small  plot  of  ground,  according  to  Montesquiou. 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF  THE   ADRIATIC     163 

gallery  of  colonnettes,  .  .  .  the  Loredano  and  the  former 
home  of  Enrico  Dandolo,  the  conqueror  of  Constantinople. 
Sometimes  a  crossing  or  a  piazzetta,  like  the  Campo  San 
Vitale,  for  instance,  facing  the  Academy,  usefully  breaks  this 
long  line  of  edifices.  .  .  .  The  Rialto,  which  is  the  handsomest 
bridge  in  Venice,  has  a  grand  and  most  monumental  appear- 
ance ;  it  strides  the  canal  with  one  arch  of  an  elegant  yet  bold 
design.  It  was  built  in  1591,  under  the  doge  Pasquale 
Cicogna,  by  Antonia  da  Ponte,  and  replaced  the  old  wooden 
drawbridge  shown  in  the  plan  of  Albert  Durer.  Two  rows 
of  shops,  divided  in  the  middle  by  an  arcaded  portico  show- 
ing the  sky  through  it,  stand  on  the  sides  of  the  bridge. 
It  can  be  crossed  by  three  footways,  that  in  the  centre  and 
the  two  outside  by  the  balustrades  of  marble.  Round  the 
bridge  of  the  Rialto,  which  is  one  of  the  handsomest  spots  of 
the  Grand  Canal,  are  piled  up  the  oldest  houses  in  Venice.  .  .  . 
On  this  side  and  that  of  the  Rialto  stands  the  old  Fondaco 
dei  Tedeschi,  whose  vaguely  tinted  walls  have  the  suggestion 
of  frescoes  by  Titian  and  Tintoretto.^  ...  As  we  still  go  up 
the  canal,  on  our  left  is  the  Palazzo  Corner  della  Regina,  so 
called  after  the  queen  Cornaro  .  .  .  this  sumptuous  palace 
is  now  a  pawnshop,  and  the  humble'  rags  of  misery  or  the 
frippery  of  improvidence  brought  to  bay  are  heaped  up  under 
the  rich  relics  which  else  would  be  allowed  to  fall  to  ruin,  for 
in  our  day  beauty  cannot  exist  unless  utility  is  added.  The 
Armenian  College,  a  little  way  off,  is  a  handsome  building  by 
Baldassare  da  Longhena,  of  a  solidly  rich  and  imposing  style. 
It  was  formerly  the  Pesaro  palace.  To  the  right  is  the  Palazzo 
Ca  D'oro,  one  of  the  finest  of  the  Grand  Canal.  .  .  .  We  have 
not  even  spoken  of  the  Mocenigo  palace,  where  the  great 
Byron  lived.  .  .  .  The  Barbarigo  also  deserves  mention.  .  .  . 
The  old  inn  of  the  'J'urks,  much  used  when  Venice  had  all 
the  trade  of  the  East  and  the  Indies,  now  has  two  stages  of 
Arabic  arcades  in  decay.  ...  As  we  go  from  the  heart  of  the 
town,  life  dies.  Many  windows  are  closed  or  boarded  up  ;  but 
this  melancholy  has  its  beauty,  more  easily  caught  by  the 
mind  than  the  eyes,  delighted  as  they  are  by  the  perpetual 
accidents  of  unexpected  light  and  shade,  by  varied  buildings 
whose  decay  makes  them  more  handsome,  and  by  the  continued 
movement  of  the  waters,  the  tint  of  blue  and  of  rose  which 
makes  up  the  atmosphere  of  Venice. — Theophile  Gautier. 

1  The  famous  frescoes  by  Giorgione  and  Titian  were  certainly  painted 
here.  Vasari  says  that  Giorgione  "  thought  only  of  executing  fanciful 
figures,"  unconnected  with  history  or  legend. 


164  THE    BOOK    OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


The  Churches 

St.  Mark's  excepted — and  a  very  wonderful  exception  of 
course  it  is — the  churches  in  Venice  in  no  way  came  up  to 
my  anticipations.^  There  is,  indeed,  not  a  tithe  of  the  real 
delight  experienced  in  visiting  them  which  I  remember  to 
have  felt  in  visiting  the  churches  of  much  smaller  cities  in 
France,  Germany,  and  our  own  dear  England. —  G.  E.  Street. 
Of  the  churches  in  Venice  it  may  be  observed  in  general 
that  as  some  of  them  have  been  built  by  Palladio,  and  many 
raised  on  models  designed  by  him,  they  are  of  a  better  style 
than  architecture.  ...  I  need  not  add  that  the  talents  of  the 
first  Venetian  artists  have  been  exerted  to  adorn  them  with 
sculptures  and  with  paintings.-  Of  these  churches,  that  De 
Salute  (Of  Salvation),  that  De  Redemptore  (of  the  Redeemer), 
two  votive  churches  erected  by  the  Republic  on  the  cessation 
of  two  dreadful  pestilences,  and  that  of  S.  Giorgio  Maggiore 
are  very  noble. — Eustace. 

San  Giovanni  e  Paolo 

A  Gothic  church,  but  Italian-Gothic,  and  therefore  gay  : 
the  round  pillars,  the  broad  and  well-slanting  arches,  the 
windows  nearly  all  white,  do  away  with  the  ghostly  or  mystical 
ideas  which  northern  cathedrals  suggest  to  the  mind.     Like 

1  The  following  notes  from  Forsyth  take  a  rather  more  favourable  view: 
"  Venice  may  be  proud  of  her  churches,  of  those  at  least  which  Palladio 
has  built.  His  Redentore  is  admirable  in  plan  and  elevation.  .  .  .  San 
Gioi-gio,  where  the  last  conclave  was  held,  is  not  so  pure  in  design,  yet 
worthy  of  Palladio.  .  .  .  Sa7i  Fraticesca  della  Vigna  is  another  church  of 
Palladio's,  but  much  inferior  to  these.  Its  front,  like  San  Gioi-gid's,  has 
two  wings,  each  covered  with  half  a  pediment.  .  .  .  The  Jesuit  church, 
like  most  of  that  order,  blends  richness  of  materials  with  poverty  of  de- 
sign. .  .  .  Santa  Maria  della  Salute  is  much  admired.  It  is  magnificent, 
to  be  sure,  and  lofty  and  rich  ;  but  it  runs  into  too  many  angles  and  pro- 
jections, too  many  '  coignes  of  vantage,'  both  without  and  within." 

2  Of  the  great  Paolo  Veronese  now  in  the  Louvre,  De  Brosses  wrote  : 
"The  Wedding  of  Cana^  by  Veronese,  in  the  church  of  St.  George,  is  not 
only  a  painting  of  the  highest  merit,  but  among  the  greatest  that  exist.  .  .  . 
Paolo  has  here  included  the  portraits  of  the  most  famous  Venetian  painters 
of  his  day  playing  on  musical  instruments.  In  the  foreground  Titian  is 
playing  the  double-bass,  Paul  the  viola,  Tintoretto  the  violin,  Bassano  the 
flute.  By  these  various  muiical  instruments  Paul  Veronese  illustrates  the 
different  perfections  of  the  painters  :  Titian,  profound  science  and  slow 
but  sure  craft  in  workmanship;  his  own  facile  and  brilliant  design;  the 
celerity  of  Tintoretto's  art ;  and  the  elegance  of  Bassano's  style," 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     165 

the  Campo  Santo  at  Pisa,  like  Santa  Croce  at  Florence,  the 
church  is  peopled  with  tombs,  and  if  those  of  the  Frari  ^  were 
added,  it  would  be  a  mausoleum  of  the  entire  Republic. 
Most  of  the  tombs  are  of  the  fifteenth,  or  the  early  years  of 
the  sixteenth  century  :  the  great  age  of  the  city,  when  great 
men  and  great  deeds  are  falling  into  decadence,  and  yet  at 
a  date  sufficiently  recent  for  the  new  art  to  preserve  their 
image,  and  express  their  sincerity.  Some  show  the  dawn  of 
this  great  ligiit :  others  its  sunset.  ...  In  the  monument  of 
the  Doge  Morosini,  who  died  in  1382,  the  pure  Gothic  form 
flowers  in  all  its  elegance.  A  flowered  arcade  loops  its  lace 
above  the  dead ;  on  either  side  rises  a  charming  little  spire 
borne  by  a  column  adorned  with  trefoils,  broidered  with 
figures  and  topped  with  pinnacles,  as  if  the  marble  were  a 
kind  of  prickly  plant,  which  bristles  and  flowers  in  a  feathery 
blossom  of  thorns  and  spikes.  The  Doge  sleeps  with  his 
hands  crossed  on  his  breast ;  these  are  genuine  funeral 
monuments,  made  up  of  an  alcove,  sometimes  with  canopy 
or  curtains,  a  marble  couch  decorated  like  the  bedstead 
on  which  the  aged  limbs  of  the  man  were  laid  to  sleep  in 
life.  Within  the  tomb  is  the  sculptured  body  in  its  wonted 
dress,  calm  in  sleep,  confident  and  pious  because  life  has 
been  well  lived.   .  .   . 

At  each  step  we  see  some  new  trait  of  artistic  develop- 
ment. In  the  tomb  of  the  Doge  Antonio  Venier,  who  died 
in  1400,  the  paganism  of  the  Renaissance  crops  out  by  such 
ornamental  details  as  the  shell-niche.  But  everything  else 
is  still  angularly  decorated,  gracefully  slender  and  Gothic  in 
the  sculpture  as  well  as  the  architectural  design.  The  heads 
are  too  heavy  and  clumsy,  too  short  and  often  poised  on  wry 
necks.  ...  As  we  go  on,  following  the  development  of  the 
epoch,  this  naive  simplicity  grows  less  and  less.  The  funeral 
monument  becomes  a  heroes'  panoply ;  round  arcades  throw 
their  broad  span  above  the  dead ;  fanciful  arabesques  run 
round  their  polished  borders ;  symmetrical  columns  show 
their  acanthus  capitals ;  sometimes  they  are  set  one  on 
another,  and  the  four  orders  of  architecture  show  all  their 
variety  to  satisfy  the  pride  of  the  eye.  The  tomb  then 
becomes  a  colossally  triumphal  arch,  and  some  have  twenty 
statues,  not  far  under  life-size. —  Taine. 

^  We  choose  San  Giovanni  e  Paolo  as  being  more  a  typically  Venetian 
"Westminster  Abbey"  than  the  Frari,  but  the  latter  contains  Titian's 
Madonna  di  Casa  Pc'saro,  and  formerly  his  Assumption  of  the  Virgin. 


i66  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 


Venetian  Art^ 

The  Accademia  delle  Belle  Arli,  as  is  well  known,  occupies 
the  former  Scuola  della  Carita.  .  .  .  The  pearl  of  great  price 
and  star  of  the  collection  is  the  Infant  Jesus  by  Giovanni 
Bellini.  The  subject  is  an  oft-repeated  one,  hackneyed  and 
spoilt,  and  yet  it  flowers  anew  with  eternal  youth  from  the  brush 
of  the  aged  painter.  What  is  there  in  it  except  a  woman  hold- 
ing a  child  on  her  knees,  and  yet  what  a  woman  !  The  head 
follows  you  like  a  dream,  and  once  seen  it  is  always  remem- 
bered ;  it  has  the  impossible  beauty,  yet  wondrous  truth  of  imma- 
culate maidenhood  with  commanding  sensuousness.   .  .  . 

A  most  interesting  picture  by  Gentile  Bellini  is  the  pro- 
cession on  the  Piazza  of  St.  Mark's,  conveying  the  relics 
guarded  by  the  brotherhood  of  St.  John  when  Jacopo  Salis 
made  the  vow  of  the  cross.  It  would  be  difficult  to  imagine 
a  more  complete  collection  of  the  dresses  of  the  epoch  :  the 
patient  and  minute  craftsmanship  of  the  painter  does  not  lose 
a  single  detail ;  nothing  is  sacrificed,  the  whole  is  rendered 
with  Gothic  conscientiousness.  The  appearance  of  St.  Mark's 
as  it  was  then  has  the  exactitude  of  an  architectural  plan. 
The  ancient  Byzantine  mosaics,  afterwards  restored,  still 
adorn  the  doorways  of  the  old  basilica,  and,  strangely  enough, 
the  cupolas  are  entirely  gilt  as  they  never  were  in  reality. 
But  so  scrupulous  a  painter  never  had  a  bee  in  his  bonnet ; 
as  a  matter  of  fact  the  domes  were  to  have  been  gilt,  only 
the  doge  Loredano  needed  the  sequins  intended  for  gilding 
for  his  war-chest,  and  the  project  was  never  carried  into  effect. 
The  only  trace  of  it  remains  in  this  picture  by  Gentile  Bellini, 
who  gilded  his  St.  Mark  by  anticipation.  .  .  . 

Nothing  could  be  more  graceful,  or  of  a  more  youthful 
precocity  than  the  sequence  of  pictures  in  which  Carpaccio 
has  pourtrayed  the  life  of  Saint  Ursula.  Carpaccio  here  has 
the  ideal  charm,  the  youthful  graciousness  of  Raphael  in  the 
MarritT^e  of  the  Virgin^-  one  of  his  earliest  and  perhaps  the 

^  We  have  here  linked  together  a  few  of  Theophile  Gautier's  remarks — 
sometimes  transposing  the  order — with  the  intention  of  illustrating  a  few 
typical  Venetian  pictures.  The  general  balance  of  our  book  needs  this 
in  the  case  of  Venice,  Florence,  and  Rome  ;  although  no  very  effectual 
criticism  can  be  expected  on  such  a  small  scale.  Giorgione,  unhappily, 
will  be  found  anywhere  rather  than  in  Venice  to-day,  his  best  canvases 
being  in  Dresden,  Madrid,  Paris,  and  Glasgow. 

-  The  Raphael  now  is  in  the  Brera  at  Milan.  The  Peiugino,  its 
prototype,  is  at  Caen. 


VENICE    AND    TOWNS    OF   THE   ADRIATIC      167 

most  fascinating  of  his  pictures.  Nothing  is  more  naively 
delightful  than  the  innocence  of  the  heads,  which  are  of  a 
most  angelic  suavity ;  there  is  particularly  a  young  man  with 
long  hair  who  turns  away,  letting  droop  from  his  shoulder 
a  cape  with  a  velvet  collar :  he  is  of  such  a  proud,  youthful, 
and  handsome  grace  that  we  might  think  him  the  Cupid  of 
Praxiteles  clad  in  mediaeval  dress,  or  rather  an  angel  who  has 
the  fancy  of  masquerading  as  a  tnagtiifico  of  Venice.   .  .  . 

The  Assumption  is  one  of  the  largest  arrangements  of 
Titian,  and  that  in  which  he  has  risen  to  his  highest :  the 
composition  is  balanced  and  distributed  with  infinite  art.  The 
upper  part,  in  the  form  of  a  semicircle,  shows  Paradise — the 
Glory,  as  Spaniards  say  in  the  language  of  asceticism — with 
garlands  of  angels,  submerged  and  lost  in  a  flow  of  light  of 
incalculable  depth,  stars  shining  through  flame  and  brighter 
radiances  of  eternal  day  forming  an  aureole  for  the  Father, 
who  comes  from  the  depths  of  the  infinite  like  a  soaring  eagle, 
attended  by  an  archangel  and  by  a  seraph  whose  hands  uphold 
the  crown  and  the  nimbus.  This  Jehovah,  poised  like  a  sacred 
bird  with  the  head  advanced  and  the  body  retiring  in  perspec- 
tive under  surging  draperies  opened  like  wings,  astonishes  by 
a  bold  sublimity.  If  it  be  possible  for  mortal  man  to  render 
the  person  of  Deity,  Titian  has  done  it:  power  without  limita- 
tion, and  imperishable  youth  make  the  face  shine,  and  its 
white  beard  only  needs  to  be  shaken  to  let  fall  the  snows  of 
eternity.  Since  the  Olympian  Jove  of  Pheidias,  never  has 
the  Master  of  heaven  and  earth  been  more  worthily  presented. 
The  centre  of  the  picture  is  taken  up  by  the  Virgin  Mary, 
who  is  lifted  or  rather  surrounded  by  a  garland  of  beatified 
souls ;  indeed  she  needs  no  help  to  mount  heavenward,  being 
caught  up  by  the  fire  of  her  perfect  faith,  and  the  soul's  purity 
that  is  lighter  than  the  most  luminous  ether.  There  really  is 
a  most  surprising  upward  spring  in  the  figure,  and  to  get  this 
effect,  Titian  has  not  sought  emaciated  forms,  contorted 
draperies,  or  transparent  colours.  His  Madonna  is  a  most 
true,  most  living,  most  real  woman,  of  as  solid  a  beauty  as 
the  Venus  of  Milo.   .  .   . 

Opposite  the  Assimta  of  Titian  has  been  placed  the  St. 
Mark  delivering  a  Slave,  by  Tintoretto,^  as  being  the  most 

1  "Tintoretto,  to  be  rightly  understood,"  writes  Symonds,  "must  be 
sought  all  over  Venice — in  the  church  as  well  as  the  Scuola  di  San  Rocco  ; 
in  the  'Temptation  of  St.  Anthony'  at  St.  Trovaso  no  less  than  in  the 
temptations  of  Eve  and  Christ ;  in  the  decorative  pomp  of  the  Sala  del 
Senato,  and  in  the  Paradisal  vision  of  the  Sala  del  Gran  Consiglio." 


1 68  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

powerful  and  most  comparable  picture  to  set  near  such  a 
masterpiece.  .  .  .  This  picture  has  tor  its  subject  the  aid  brought, 
by  the  sacred  patron  of  Venice  to  a  poor  slave  whose  savage 
master  tormented  and  tortured  him  because  of  the  obstinate 
devotion  the  fellow  had  for  the  saint.  The  slave  is  stretched 
on  the  ground  on  a  cross  surrounded  by  busy  executioners, 
who  are  vainly  struggling  to  fix  him  to  the  engine  of  shame. 
The  nails  fly  back,  the  mallets  are  shattered,  the  hatchets  are 
broken  in  splinters ;  more  pitiful  than  human  beings,  the 
instruments  of  torture  crumble  in  the  hands  of  the  torturers. 
The  standers-by  look  at  each  other  and  murmur,  the  judge 
leans  forward  from  the  seat  of  justice  to  see  why  his  orders 
are  not  carried  out.  while  St.  Mark,  in  one  of  the  most  violently 
twisted  foreshortenings  the  art  of  painting  has  ever  attempted, 
rushes  head  downwards  and  dives  towards  earth — without 
clouds,  wings,  cherubin,  or  any  of  the  aerostatic  methods 
usual  in  sacred  pictures  —  coming  to  deliver  the  man  who 
has  believed  in  him.  This  vigorous  figure,  with  an  athlete's 
muscles  and  of  colossal  size,  cutting  the  air  like  a  rock  hurled 
by  a  catapult,  has  the  most  remarkable  effect.  The  design 
has  so  flowing  a  strength  that  the  massive  saint  seems  to  hover 
in  the  air  and  not  to  fall.  It  is  a  triumph  of  execution,  and 
the  painting  is  in  so  high  a  key,  so  marked  in  the  contrasts 
of  light  and  shade,  so  vigorous  in  detail  and  fiercely  turbulent 
in  brush-work,  that  the  boldest  Caravaggios  and  Spagnolettos 
would  be  but  rose-water  by  its  side.  The  picture,  notwith- 
standing its  savagery,  always  preserves  in  its  accessories  the 
abundantly  sumptuous  architectural  aspect  which  is  the  peculi- 
arity of  the  Venetian  school.^ — Theophile  Gautier. 

'  No  traveller  affords  us  a  sufficient  description  of  the  Bartolomeo 
Colleoni  equestrian  statue  by  Verrochio  and  Leopardi.  Leonardo  da 
Vinci's  Sforza  at  Milan  being  no  longer  in  existence,  the  Colleoni  can  only 
be  compared  with  the  Gattamelata  by  Donatello  at  Padua.  The  figure  of 
the  Gattamelata  is  perhaps  finer  in  sculpture,  and  the  horse  more  massive 
in  its  planes,  but  the  Colleoni  is  undoubtedly  more  dramatic  in  movement 
and  gesture.  The  general  decoration  of  the  Colleoni  is  more  varied,  as 
in  the  details  of  the  flowing  mane,  the  cincture  of  the  horse,  and  the 
ai  moured  feet  clutching  at  the  stirrups  ;  Init  the  saddle  of  the  Gattamelata 
has  some  nude  figures  in  relief  on  it.  The  Colleoni  is  more  the  famous 
condottiere  leading  an  expedition,  and  the  Gattamelata  (though  he  wears 
a  sword)  the  statesman.  Both  figures  sit  their  horses  excellently,  but  the 
horses  themselves  fall  far  short  of  those  of  Pheidian  art. 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     169 


General  Note  on  Venice 

There  are  some  aspects  of  Venice  which  are  not  dealt  with 
by  our  travellers,  owing  to  the  peculiarities  of  the  origin  and 
life  of  the  town.  As  to  its  origins,  it  did  not  begin  with  a 
settled  site  such  as  Florence  or  Rome  possessed.  The  earliest 
existing  remains  of  the  Venetian  settlement  are  to  be  found  in 
Murano,  Torcello,  and  Grado.  According  to  Alolmenti  some 
ninety  different  churches  were  built  before  St.  Mark's,  and  he 
mentions  a  fine  specimen  of  the  early  dwelling-house  as  being 
still  opposite  San  Pietro  in  Murano,  this  house  having  been 
built  before  the  eleventh  century.  In  Venice  proper,  the 
earliest  houses  were  built  in  wood,  and  to  the  fifteenth  century 
there  still  remained  ^omo.  fabriccB  ligtia.  coppertce  de  canna.  The 
Lombard  style  of  brick-building  found  little  favour  with  the 
Venetians,  and  not  possessing  extensive  architectural  remains 
like  the  Romans,  nor  adjacent  quarries  like  the  Florentines, 
they  had  to  wait  till  they  had  sufficiently  large  vessels  and 
barges  to  bring  their  building  materials  from  elsewhere. 

Venice,  for  some  centuries,  remained  a  rural  town,  with 
gardens  round  its  houses  and  an  orchard  in  front  of  St. 
Mark's,  where  the  Piazza  now  is.  Living  a  peaceable  home 
life,  the  Venetians  did  not  build  up  the  mediaeval  towers 
which  were  used  for  refuge  in  other  towns,  and  which  still 
remain  to  the  number  of  thirteen  out  of  fifty-two  in  even  such 
a  tiny  town  as  San  Gemignano.  Such  towers  as  the  Venetians 
had  were  more  for  observation  of  the  sea.  The  earlier  Ducal 
Palace,  the  houses  of  the  families  of  Querini,  Zani,  Dandolo, 
Giustiani,  Faliero,  and  Memmi  were  the  principal  structures 
of  Venice  when  it  was  winning  to  power  on  the  seas.  As  we 
know  it,  and  as  the  travellers  knew  it,  Venice — always  with 
the  exception  of  St.  Mark's — is  a  town  dating  from  the  four- 
teenth and  fifteenth  centuries  to  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth. 
Much  of  the  decoration  of  St.  Mark's  is  part  of  the  plunder 
won  at  the  taking  of  Constantinople  in  1204.  The  conse- 
quences of  the  trade  with  the  East  are  too  well  known  to  be 
recounted,  but  the  Venetians  had  already  enjoyed  a  fair 
measure  of  commercial  prosperity  as  the  half-way  house 
between  the  Byzantine  and  Franconian  Empires.  Dante,  in 
a  well-known  passage  {Infern.  xxi.  7-18)  gives  us  some  idea 
of  the  activity  of  the  Arsenal  in  the  beginning  of  the  fourteenth 
century,  and  Petrarch,  writing  in   1363,   says:    "From    this 


I70  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

port  I  see  vessels  departing  which  are  as  large  as  the  house  I 
inhabit,  and  which  have  masts  taller  than  its  towers.  These 
ships  resemble  a  mountain  floating  on  the  sea :  they  go  to  all 
parts  of  the  world,  braving  a  thousand  dangers  ;  they  carry  our 
wines  to  the  English, ^  our  honey  to  the  Scythians,  our  saffron, 
our  oils,  and  our  linen  to  the  Syrians,  Armenians,  Persians, 
and  Arabians ;  and  wonderful  to  say,  they  convey  our  wood 
to  the  Greeks  and  Egyptians.  From  all  these  countries  they 
bring  back  in  return  articles  of  merchandise,  which  they  dis- 
tribute all  over  Europe.  They  go  even  as  far  as  the  Don. 
The  navigation  of  our  seas  does  not  extend  further  north  ;  but 
when  they  have  arrived  there,  they  quit  their  vessels,  and 
travel  to  trade  with  India  and  China ;  and  after  passing  the 
Caucasus  and  the  Ganges  they  voyage  as  far  as  the  Eastern 
Ocean." 

This  is  in  no  exaggeration,  and  it  may  be  mentioned  that 
besides  the  well-known  travels  of  Marco  Polo,  Nicholas  and 
Antonio  Zeno  in  their  wanderings  went  as  far  as  Iceland, 
Greenland,  and  the  coast  of  Labrador.  The  traveller,  then, 
will  do  well  to  bear  in  mind  the  maritime  greatness  of  the 
town,  for  the  Venice  of  the  gondola  and  the  canals  will 
always  be  present.  Some  conception  of  maritime  Venice  will 
be  obtained  from  the  pictures  in  the  Ducal  Palace,  but  they 
were  painted  when  Venice  had  sought  a  territorial  expansion. 
The  commerce  of  the  Republic  was  mostly  carried  on  by  what 
Mr.  Horatio  Brown  calls  the  state-fleet,  though  individuals 
might  build  vessels.  Every  ship,  whether  propelled  by  sails 
or  oars,  belonged  to  a  class,  and  could  be  used  for  trade 
or  war.  The  museum  of  the  Arsenal  contains  models  of 
the  ships  of  all  periods,  and  it  is  a  pity  that  no  traveller  has 
written  on  this  interesting  collection,  with  the  historical 
memories  it  suggests. 

To  return  to  the  town,  Philippe  de  Comines  went  in  the 
suite  of  Charles  VIII.  in  1495,  ^"^  in  his  memoirs  describes 

^  The  beginnings  of  trade  with  England  are  ,of  an  early  date.  In  the 
Venetian  state-papers,  edited  by  Mr.  Rawdon  Brown,  there  appears  a 
tariff,  under  date  November  6,  1265,  in  which  the  price  of  a  whole  piece 
of  Stamford  cloth  was  24  solidos.  One  cargo  in  1319  consisted  of 
10,000  lbs.  of  sugar,  and  1000  lbs.  of  candy  were  exchanged  for  wool 
in  England,  but  the  Venetian  skipper  was  killed  by  the  men  of  the 
English  coggs.  Such  grievances  were  redressed  by  a  money  payment, 
but  the  English  were  not  always  the  offenders,  and  the  Venetians  in  five 
galleys  at  Southampton  had  to  compound  for  manslaughter  in  a  sum 
"received  from  the  merchants  of  Venice." 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     171 

the  Grand  Canal  as  being  la  mieulx  niatso?iee  in  the  whole 
world.  The  older  houses  are  painted,  he  tells  us,  and  "  the 
others,  made  in  the  last  hundred  years,  all  covered  with  white 
marble,  which  is  brought  from  Istria."  By  the  end  of  the  six- 
teenth century,  Venice  had  very  nearly  a  hundred  palaces,  the 
most  noteworthy  of  these  being  the  Grimani  with  its  broad 
stuccoed  staircases  and  its  paintings  by  Salviati  and  Giovanni 
da  Udine  ;  the  Foscarini  with  its  antiquities  ;  the  Vendramini 
with  its  Giorgiones,  Bellinis,  and  Titians.  Some  of  the  great 
houses  had  gardens,  and  it  would  appear  that  gardens  were 
kept  in  the  adjoining  islands  whither  the  notabilities  might  go 
with  their  friends  and  enjoy  the  cool  breezes  mingled  with  the 
perfume  of  the  flowers  and  the  sound  of  music. 

Of  the  decoration  of  most  of  the  palaces — pictures, 
antiques,  tapestries,  rare  silks,  furniture,  arms  and  armour — 
little  now  remains,  for  the  poverty  of  the  nobility  made  it 
necessary  to  part  with  almost  everything  movable  after  the 
invasion  of  Napoleon.  For  this  reason,  any  detailed  account 
of  the  interior  of  the  palaces  would  not  be  of  great  interest ; 
the  exterior  suggests  the  names  famous  in  history  or  legend. 
To  give  any  adequate  account  of  these  names  would  be  to 
write  the  history  of  Venice,  and  we  can  only  indicate  a  few 
side-issues  which  may  be  an  aid  to  understanding  its  art. 
Venice  lacks  in  the  ecclesiastical  note  of  other  towns  in  Italy, 
and  late  travellers  remark  on  the  absence  of  priests  in  its 
streets.  Except  in  the  Jesuit  churches,  the  influence  of  Rome 
is  not  very  palpable ;  we  always  feel  in  Venice  that  we  are  in 
an  independent  state. 

Some  surprise  may  be  felt  at  the  sudden  change  from  the 
Byzantine  dress  and  decoration  of  the  early  art  to  that  of  Car- 
paccio.  Venice  was  somewhat  secluded  from  the  rest  of  Italy, 
and  its  intercourse  was  mostly  with  the  East,  till  in  the  fourteenth 
century  it  began  to  desire  supremacy  inland,  getting  possession 
of  Treviso  in  1339,  of  Vicenza  in  1404,  and  of  Padua  and 
Verona  in  1405.  It  is  thus  that  the  diff'erence  between  the 
two  schools  of  art  is  accounted  for.  Some  influences  of  the 
life  of  the  East  remained,  and  the  women  of  Venice  mostly 
were  kept  in  a  semi-oriental  seclusion.  The  usual  result 
followed  in  the  prolific  number  of  women  of  a  certain  class 
which  almost  every  traveller  refers  to.  This  had  its  influence 
even  on  the  art  of  the  greatest  masters,  and  in  Titian's  women 
we  see  the  glorification  of  fleshly  loveliness.  In  fact  the 
Venetians,  with  their  almost  pure  Latin  blood,  stand  apart — 


172  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

in  their  great  days — from  the  mystical  Florentines,  as  men  of 
a  robust  sensuality  and  practical  strength  of  mind  and  deed. 

One  last  point  may  now  be  referred  to  with  regard  to  the 
frequent  introduction  of  slaves  in  the  great  canvases.  The 
traffic  in  slaves  was  nominally  punishable  with  death,  but 
being  very  lucrative  it  was  permitted  to  continue  till  the  end 
of  the  sixteenth  century.  These  slaves  were  sold  by  auction 
at  San  Giorgio  and  the  Rialto,  at  prices  from  1 6  to  80  or  100 
gold  ducats.  Between  1393  and  1491  as  many  as  150  sales 
of  slaves  were  notarially  registered  ;  they  were  often  better 
treated  than  servants,  and  could  be  freed  by  their  master's 
acknowledgment,  or  even  by  his  testament.— ^^. 

VERONA  1 

The  city  ...  is  built  on  the  gentle  declivity  and  bottome 
of  an  hill,  inviron'd  in  part  with  some  considerable  moun- 
taines  and  downes  of  fine  grass  like  some  places  in  the  South 
of  England,  and  on  the  other  side  having  the  rich  plaine  where 
Caius  Marias  overthrew  the  Cimbrians.  The  Citty  is  divided 
in  the  midst  by  the  river  Athesis,  over  which  are  divers  stately 
bridges,  and  on  its  banks  are  many  goodly  palaces,  whereof 
one  is  well  painted  in  chiaro  oscuro  on  the  outside,  as  are 
divers  others  in  this  drie  climate  of  Italy. 

The  first  thing  that  engaged  our  attention  and  wonder  too, 
was  the  amphitheater,  which  is  the  most  entire  of  ancient 
remaines  now  extant.  The  inhabitants  call  it  the  Arena :  it 
has  two  portico's,  one  within  the  other,  and  is  34  rods  long, 
22  in  bredth,  with  42  ranks  of  stone  benches  or  seates  which 
reach  to  the  top.  The  vastnesse  of  the  marble  stones  is 
stupendious.  .  .  .  This  I  esteeme  to  be  one  of  the  noblest  anti- 
quities in  Europ,  it  is  so  vast  and  intire,  having  escaped  the 
mines  of  so  many  other  public  buildings  for  above  1400  yeares. 

There  are  other  arches,  as  that  of  the  victorie  of  Marius ; 
temples,  aquc^educts,  &c.  shewing  still  considerable  remaines 
in  severall  places  of  the  towne  and  how  magnificent  it  has 
formerly  ben.  It  has  three  strong  castles,  and  a  large  and 
noble  wall.  Indeede  the  whole  Citty  is  bravely  built,  especialy 
the  Senate-house  where  we  saw  those  celebrated  statues  of 
Cornelius  Nepos,  Emilius  Marcus,  Plinius  and  Vitruvius,  all 
having  honoured  Verona  by  their  birth,  and  of  later  date  Julius 
Caisar  Scaliger,  that  prodigie  of  learning. 

'  The  towns  next  following  are  all  historically  connected  with  Venice, 
though  not  on  the  Adriatic. 


VENICE    AND   TOWNS    OF   THE   ADRIATIC     173 

In  the  evening  we  saw  the  garden  of  Count  Giusti's  villa, 
where  are  walkes  cut  out  of  the  maine  rock,  from  whence  we 
had  the  pleasant  prospect  of  Mantua  and  Parma,  though  at 
greate  distance.  At  the  entrance  of  this  garden  growes  the 
goodliest  cypresse  I  fancy  in  Europ,  cut  in  pyramid ;  'tis  a 
prodigious  tree  both  for  breadth  and  height,  entirely  cover'd 
and  thick  to  the  base.   .  .  . 

This  Citty  deserv'd  all  those  elogies  Scaliger  has  honoured 
it  with,  for  in  my  opinion  the  situation  is  the  most  delightfull 
I  ever  saw,  it  is  so  sweetly  mixed  with  rising  ground  and 
vallies,  so  elegantly  planted  with  trees  on  which  Bacchus 
seems  riding  as  it  were  in  triumph  every  autumn,  for  the  vines 
reach  from  tree  to  tree ;  here  of  all  places  I  have  scene  in 
Italy  would  I  fix  a  residence.  Well  has  that  learn'd  man 
given  it  the  name  of  the  very  eye  ot  the  world  : — 

Ocelle  mundi,  Sidus  Itali  cceli, 

Flos  Urbium,  flos  corniculumq'  amaenum, 

Quot  sunt,  eruntve,  quot  fuere,  Verona. 

— Evelyn. 

Teutonic  Influences 

Verona,  the  ancient  world-renowned  city,  situated  on  both 
sides  of  the  Adige,  has  been  in  all  ages  the  first  halting-place 
for  the  great  German  emigrations  of  tribes  which  left  their 
cold  Northern  forests  and  crossed  the  Alps,  to  rejoice  in  the 
golden  sunshine  of  pleasant  Italy.  Some  went  further  on — 
others  were  well  enough  pleased  with  the  place  itself,  and 
made  themselves  at  home  and  comfortable  in  it,  put  on  their 
silk  dressing-gowns  and  promenaded  cheerfully  among  flowers 
and  cypresses,  until  new  comers,  who  still  had  on  their  iron 
garments,  arrived  from  the  North  and  crowded  them  away — 
an  oft-repeated  tale,  and  one  called  by  historians  the  emigra- 
tion of  races.  If  we  wander  through  the  district  of  Verona, 
we  find  startling  traces  of  those  days,  as  well  as  of  earlier  and 
later  ages.  The  amphitheatre  and  the  triumphal  arch  re- 
mind us  of  the  Roman  age ;  the  fabulous  relics  of  so  many 
Romanesque  ante-Gothic  buildings  recall  Theodoric,  that 
Dietrich  of  Bern,  of  whom  Germans  yet  sing  and  tell ;  mad 
fragments  bring  up  Alboin  and  his  raging  Langobardi ;  legen- 
dary monuments  speak  of  Carolus  Magnus,  whose  paladins  are 
chiselled  on  the  gate  of  the  Cathedral  with  the  same  frank 
roughness  which  characterised  them  in  life.     It  all  seems  as 


174  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

though  the  town  were  a  great  tavern,  and  as  people  in  inns 
are  accustomed  to  write  their  names  on  walls  and  windows,  so 
have  the  races  who  have  travelled  through  Verona  left  in  it 
traces  of  their  presence. — Heine. 

A  Thought  from  Goethe 

Though  I  have  been  here  only  a  few  hours,  I  have  already 
run  through  the  town,  and  seen  the  Olympian  theatre,  and  the 
buildings  of  Palladio.i  .  .  .  When  once  one  stands  in  the 
presence  of  these  works,  one  immediately  perceives  their  great 
value,  for  they  are  calculated  to  fill  the  eye  with  their  actual 
greatness  and  massiveness,  and  to  satisfy  the  mind  by  the 
beautiful  harmony  of  their  dimensions,  not  only  in  abstract 
sketches,  but  with  all  the  prominences  and  distances  of  per- 
spective. Therefore  I  say  of  Palladio  :  he  was  a  man  really 
and  intrinsically  great,  whose  greatness  was  outwardly  mani- 
fested.— Goethe. 

The  Churches 

Most  of  the  churches,  Santa-Anastasia,  San  Fermo-Mag- 
giore,  the  Duomo,  and  San  Zenone  are  of  a  peculiar  style 
called  Lombard,  which  is  midway  between  the  Italian  and 
Gothic  styles,  as  if  Latin  and  German  artists  had  met  to  bring 
their  ideas  into  harmony  and  contrast  in  one  building.  The 
result,  however,  is  sincere  work  :  in  all  primitive  architecture  we 
see  the  lively  invention  of  a  new  spirit.  Among  these  different 
churches  we  may  take  the  Duomo  to  be  most  typical  ;  like 
the  old  basilicas,  this  edifice  is  a  house  with  another  house 
built  over  it,  both  showing  a  gable  frontage.  .  .  .  Everywhere 
we  detect  the  undecided  spirit  of  the  twelfth  century,  the 
relics  of  Roman  tradition  ^  and  the  blossoming  of  fresh  dis- 

1  Symonds  ("  Fine  Arts"  volume  of  his  Rcnaissatice)  reminds  us  that 
Palladio  was  only  one,  if  the  most  representative,  of  the  architects  who 
based  their  work  on  the  study  of  Vitruvius.  They  were  book-learned 
architects  rather  than  the  craftsmen-builders  that  the  Comacines  were. 

"■■  Many  writers  used  the  word  Romanesque  to  sum  up  the  archi- 
tectural order  following  the  Byzantine,  and  influenced  by  the  Roman 
tradition.  But  Romanesc|ue  practically  includes  Lombard,  hasilican  and 
early  Tuscan  architecture  :  the  word  really  desciibes  a  period  rather  than 
a  style.  In  reference  to  Verona  generally,  Ruskin  has  described  Lombard 
work  as  "the  expression  of  the  introduction  of  Christianity  into  barbaric 
minds."  Leader  Scott  has  proved  that  the  animal  forms  of  Lombard 
decoration  had  been  preceded  by  the  use  of  symbolical  forms  of  the  same 
kind  in  work  of  the  early  days  of  Christianity.  These  forms  were  not 
necessarily  Byzantine.  The  fish,  dove,  and  lamb  need  no  explanation; 
some  beasts  are  Apocalyptic. 


VENICE    AND   TOWNS    OF   THE   ADRIATIC     175 

coveries :  the  grace  of  an  architecture  preserved  and  the 
gropings  of  sculpture  in  its  beginning.  A  projecting  porch 
repeats  the  simple  lines  of  the  general  conception,  and  small 
columns  supported  by  griffins  rise  above  and  are  fitted  in  twisted 
strands  of  rope.  The  porch  is  original  in  its  grace,  but  the 
crouching  figures  grouped  round  the  Virgin  are  like  dog- 
headed  apes.  Gothic  forms  prevail  in  the  interior,  not  clearly 
marked  as  such,  but  with  a  tendency  that  is  already  Christian. 
I  must  confess  that  in  my  opinion  only  pointed  arches  and 
foliations  can  give  mystical  sublimity  to  a  church  ;  if  they  are 
lacking,  then  Christianity  is  not  there,  and  can  only  be  there 
when  they  begin  to  appear.  .  .  . 

We  take  a  cab  and  drive  to  the  other  end  of  the  town,  to 
San  Zenone,  the  most  curious  of  the  churches,  begun  by  a 
son  of  Charlemagne,  and  restored  by  the  German  Emperor 
Otho  I.,  but  almost  entirely  of  the  twelfth  century.  Some 
parts — such  as  the  sculptures  of  one  door — go  back  further 
even  ;  I  have  seen  nothing  so  barbaric  except  in  Pisa.  The 
Christ  at  the  pillar  looks  like  a  bear  climbing  a  tree  :  the 
judges,  executioners,  and  personages  in  other  episodes  are  like 
gross  caricatures  of  German  boors  in  heavy  cloaks.  The 
Christ  on  the  throne  has  no  skull,  the  entire  face  being 
absorbed  by  the  chin,  the  wild  and  protruding  eyes  are  like 
those  of  a  frog,  while  the  winged  angels  about  are  like  human- 
headed  bats  ...  To  this  low  level  did  art  fall  during  the  Car- 
lovingian  decadence  and  the  Hungarian  invasions. — Taine. 

Tomb  of  the  Scaligers 

.  .  .  Imagination  reigns,  but  in  this  instance  sovereign 
and  complete,  within  an  iron  railing  situated  near  Santa  Maria 
I'Antica,  with  what  is  the  most  curious  monument  in  Verona. 
Here  are  the  tombs  of  the  ancient  sovereigns  of  the  city,  the 
Scaligers,  who  were  either  by  turns,  or  always,  tyrants  and 
warriors,  murderers  and  exiles,  heroes  and  fratricides.  Like 
the  princes  of  Ferrara,  Milan,  and  Padua,  they  gave  an  example 
of  the  powerful  but  vicious  genius  which  belongs  to  Italian 
character,  and  vvhich  has  been  described  by  Machiavelli  in  his 
Prince,  or  dramatised  in  his  Life  of  Castniccio.  The  first  five 
tombs  have  the  heavy  simplicity  of  the  heroic  age,  in  which  a 
man  who  had  fought,  killed,  and  built  only  asked  for  a 
sepulchre  as  a  place  of  rest.  The  hollow  rock  which  shelters 
his    bones  is  as  solid  and  worn  as  the  iron  armour  which 


176  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

guarded  his  flesh  ;  it  is  an  enormously  massive  hollow  of 
naked  red  rock  in  one  piece,  placed  on  three  short  supports 
of  marble.  A  single  thick  slab  without  any  ornament  forms 
the  cover  ;  in  Hamlet's  phrase,  "  the  ponderous  jaws  "^  of  the 
tomb.  There  could  be  no  truer  funeral  monument  than  the 
monstrous  coffer  standing  in  its  place  to  all  eternity. 

This  period  of  savagery,  which  spawned  an  Ezzelino  and 
his  punishers,  gives  place  to  an  era  of  art,  in  which  Dante  and 
Petrarch  are  welcomed  at  a  court  of  letters  and  splendour. 
The  Gothic  style  comes  from  the  mountains  to  Milan,  and 
everywhere  fertilises  Italian  architecture ;  here  it  shows  in 
purity  and  perfection  in  the  tombs  of  the  last  masters  of  the 
town.  Two  of  the  sepulchres,  and  especially  that  of  Cane 
Signorio,  are  as  precious  in  their  way  as  the  cathedrals  of 
Milan  and  Assisi.  The  rich  and  delicate  mingling  of  twining 
and  sharply  undercut  forms,  the  transformation  of  rough 
matter  into  delicate  filigree  work,  of  the  homogeneous  into 
the  complex  and  multiple  :  such  is  the  inspiration  of  the  new 
art.  ...  On  the  summit,  Cane  Signorio  on  horseback  looks 
like  the  terminal  statue  of  a  rich  specimen  of  jeweller's  art ; 
processions  of  small  sculptured  figures  deck  the  tomb.  Six 
statuettes  in  armour,  with  bare  heads,  cover  the  edges  of  the 
platform,  and  each  of  the  niches  of  the  second  storey  contains 
the  figure  of  an  angel.  This  crowd  of  figures  and  flowering 
marbles  rises  into  a  pyramid  like  a  bouquet  in  a  vase,  while  the 
sky  shines  through  the  infinite  interstices  of  the  scaffolding. — 
laine. 

The  House  of  the  Capulets 

It  was  natural  enough  to  go  straight  from  the  Market-place 
to  the  House  of  the  Capulets,  now  degenerated  into  a  most 
miserable  little  inn.  Noisy  vettun'ni  and  muddy  market-carts 
were  disputing  possession  of  the  yard,  which  was  ankle-deep 
in  dirt,  with  a  brood  of  splashed  and  bespattered  geese ;  and 
there  was  a  grim-visaged  dog,  viciously  panting  in  a  doorway, 
who  would  certainly  have  had  Romeo  by  the  leg  the  moment  he 
put  it  over  the  wall,  if  he  had  existed  and  been  at  large  in  those 
times.  The  orchard  fell  into  other  hands,  and  was  parted  off 
many  years  ago  ;  but  there  used  to  be  one  attached  to  the 
house— or,  at  all  events,  there  may  have  been — and  the  hat 
(Cappello),  the  ancient  cognizance  of  the  family,  may  still  be 

1   "  Rotten  jaws"  was  Ronieo's  expression, 


VENICE    AND    TOWNS    OF   THE   ADRIATIC     177 

seen,  carved  in  stone,  over  the  gateway  of  the  yard.  The 
geese,  the  market-carts,  their  drivers,  and  the  dog,  were  some- 
what in  the  way  of  the  story,  it  must  be  confessed  ;  and  it 
would  have  been  pleasanter  to  have  found  the  house  empty, 
and  to  have  been  able  to  walk  through  the  disused  rooms. 
But  the  hat  was  unspeakably  comfortable  ;  and  the  place 
where  the  garden  used  to  be,  hardly  less  so.  Besides,  the 
house  is  a  distrustful,  jealous -looking  house  as  one  would 
desire  to  see,  though  of  a  very  moderate  size.  So  I  was  quite 
satisfied  with  it,  as  the  veritable  mansion  of  old  Capulet,  and 
was  correspondingly  grateful  in  my  acknowledgments  to  an 
extremely  unsentimental  middle-aged  lady,  the  Padrona  of  the 
Hotel,  who  was  lounging  on  the  threshold  looking  at  the  geese. 
From  Juliet's  home  to  Juliet's  tomb,  is  a  transition  as 
natural  to  the  visitor  as  to  fair  Juliet  herself,  or  to  the  proudest 
Juliet  that  ever  has  taught  the  torches  to  burn  bright  in  any 
time.  So  I  went  off,  with  a  guide,  to  an  old,  old  garden,  once 
belonging  to  an  old,  old  convent,  I  suppose ;  and  being 
admitted,  at  a  shattered  gate,  by  a  bright-eyed  woman  who  was 
washing  clothes,  went  down  some  walks  where  fresh  plants 
and  young  flowers  were  prettily  growing  among  fragments  of 
old  wall,  and  ivy-covered  mounds  ;  and  was  shown  a  little  tank, 
or  water-trough,  which  the  bright-eyed  woman — drying  her 
arms  upon  her  'kerchief,  called  "  La  tomba  di  (jiulietta  la 
sfortunata."  With  the  best  disposition  in  the  world  to  believe, 
I  could  do  no  more  than  believe  that  the  bright-eyed  woman 
believed  ;  so  I  gave  her  that  much  credit,  and  her  customary 
fee  in  ready  money.  It  was  a  pleasure,  rather  than  a  disap- 
pointment, that  Juliet's  resting-place  was  forgotten.  However 
consolatory  it  may  have  been  to  Yorick's  Ghost,  to  hear  the 
feet  upon  the  pavement  overhead,  and,  twenty  times  a  day,  the 
repetition  of  his  name,  it  is  better  for  Juliet  to  lie  out  of  the 
track  of  tourists,  and  to  have  no  visitors  but  such  as  come  to 
graves  in  spring-rain,  and  sweet  air,  and  sunshine. — Dickens. 

VICENZA^ 

Vicenza  is  a  Citty  in  the  Marquisate  of  Treviso,  yet  apper- 
taining  to    the  Venetians,   full  of    gentlemen   and    splendid 

^  Goethe  gives  us  this  landscape  :  "  The  way  from  Verona  hither  is 
very  pleasant  :  we  go  north-eastwards  along  the  mountains,  always  keeping 
to  the  left  the  foremost  mountains  which  consist  of  sand,  lime,  clay,  and 
marl  ;    the  hills  which  they  form,  are  dotted  with  villages,  castles,  and 

M 


178  THE    BOOK    OF    ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

palaces,  to  which  the  famous  Palladio,  borne  here,  has 
exceedingly  contributed  as  having  ben  the  architect.  Most 
conspicuous  is  the  Hall  of  Justice  ;  it  has  a  toure  of  excellent 
work  ;  the  lower  pillars  are  of  the  first  order ;  those  in  the 
three  upper  corridors  are  Doric ;  under  them  are  shops  in  a 
spacious  piazza.  The  hall  was  built  in  imitation  of  that  at 
Padoa,  but  of  a  nobler  designe,  a  la  moderna.  The  next 
morning  we  visited  the  Theater,  as  being  of  that  kind  the 
most  perfect  now  standing,  and  built  by  Palladio,  in  exact 
imitation  of  the  ancient  Romans,  and  capable  of  containing 
5000  spectators.  The  sceane,  which  is  all  of  stone,  represents 
an  imperial  citty,  the  order  Corinthian,  decorated  with  statues. 
Over  the  Scenario  is  inscribed,  "  Virtuti  ac  Genio  Olympior  : 
Academia  Theatrum  hoc  a  fundamentis  erexit  Palladio 
Architect:  1584."  The  sceane  declines  11  foote,  the  suffito 
painted  with  cloudes.  To  this  there  joynes  a  spacious  Hall 
for  soUemn  days  to  ballot  in,  and  a  second  for  the  Academics. 
In  the  Piazza  is  also  the  Podesta,  or  Governor's  house,  the 
faciata  being  of  the  Corinthian  order,  very  noble.  The  Piazza 
itselfe  is  so  large  as  to  be  capable  of  justs  and  tournaments, 
the  Nobility  of  this  Citty  being  exceedingly  addicted  to  this 
knight  errantry  and  other  martial  diversions.  In  this  place 
are  two  pillars  in  imitation  of  those  at  St.  Marc's  at  Venice, 
bearing  one  of  them  a  winged  lion,  the  other  the  statue  of 
St.  Jo.  Baptist. 

In  a  word,  this  sweete  Towne  has  more  well-built  Palaces 
than  any  of  its  dimensions  in  all  Italy,  besides  a  number 
begun  and  not  yet  finished  (but  of  stately  designe)  by  reason 
of  the  domestic  dissentions  'twixt  them  and  those  of  Brescia, 
fomented  by  the  sage  Venetians  least  by  combining  they 
might  think  of  recovering  their  ancient  liberty.  For  this 
reason   also   are   permitted   those   dissorders    and  insolences 

houses.  To  the  right  extends  the  broad  plain,  along  which  the  road  goes. 
The  straight  broad  path,  which  is  in  good  preservation,  goes  through  a 
fertile  field ;  we  look  into  deep  avenues  of  trees,  up  which  the  vines  are 
trained  to  a  considerable  height,  and  then  drop  down,  like  pendant 
branches.  Here  we  can  get  an  admirable  idea  of  festoons  !  The  grapes 
are  ripe,  and  are  heavy  on  the  tendrils,  which  hang  down  long  and 
trembling.  The  road  is  tilled  with  people  of  every  class  and  occupation, 
and  I  was  particularly  pleased  by  some  carts,  with  low  solid  wheels,  which, 
with  teams  of  fine  oxen,  carry  the  large  vats,  in  which  the  grapes  from  the 
vineyards  are  put  and  pressed.  The  drivers  rode  in  them  when  they  were 
empty,  and  the  whole  was  like  a  triumphal  procession  of  Bacchanals. 
Between  the  ranks  of  vines  the  ground  is  used  for  all  sorts  of  grain, 
especially  Indian  corn  and  millet." 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE    ADRIATIC     179 

committed  at  Padoa  among  the  youth  of  these  two  territories. 
It  is  no  dishonour  in  this  country  to  be  some  generations  in 
finishing  their  palaces,  that  without  exhausting  themselves  by 
a  vast  expence  at  once,  they  may  at  last  erect  a  sumptuous 
pile.  Count  Oleine's  Palace  is  neere  perfected  in  this  manner. 
Count  Ulmarini  is  more  famous  for  his  gardens,  being  without 
the  walls,  especialy  his  Cedrario  or  Conserve  of  Oranges 
eleaven  score  of  my  paces  long,  set  in  order  and  ranges, 
making  a  canopy  all  the  way  by  their  intermixing  branches  for 
more  than  200  of  my  single  paces,  and  which  being  full  of 
fruite  and  blossoms  was  a  most  delicious  sight.  In  the  middle 
of  this  garden  was  a  cupola  made  of  wyre,  supported  by 
slender  pillars  of  brick,  so  closely  cover'd  with  ivy,  both 
without  and  within,  that  nothing  was  to  be  perceived  but 
greene  ;  'twixt  the  arches  there  dangled  festoons  of  the  same. 
— Evelyn. 

The  Palaces 

There  are  said  to  be  about  twenty  palaces,  which  were 
erected  by  Palladio,  some  of  which  are  of  unusual  magnifi- 
cence, and  contribute  in  the  whole  to  give  Vicenza  an  appear- 
ance of  splendour  and  beauty  not  common  even  in  Italy.  In 
materials  and  magnitude  they  are  inferior  perhaps  to  the 
palaces  of  Genoa,  but  in  style  of  architecture  and  in  external 
beauty  far  superior.  Palladio  in  fact  had  a  particular  talent 
in  applying  the  orders  and  the  ornaments  of  architecture  to 
the  decoration  of  private  edifices.  Unlike  the  ancients,  who 
seem  to  have  contented  themselves  with  employing  its  grandeur 
in  temples,  porticoes,  and  public  buildings,  he  introduced  it 
into  common  life,  and  communicated  its  elegant  forms  to 
private  edifices  and  to  ordinary  dwellings. — Eustace. 

PADUA 

Padua  is  the  second  town  of  the  Venetian  state,  though 
once  the  Mother  of  Venice.  It's  old  enough  to  be  the 
mother  of  Rome  itself :  having  been  built  by  Antenor,  whose 
tomb  is  yet  seen  here.  The  town  is  very  great,  and  fuller  of 
good  houses,  than  of  men  of  condition  :  tyranny  and  too  fre- 
quent murthers  having  much  depopulated  it,  in  point  of 
nobility.  It  stands  in  the  Marca  Tresigiana.  The  walls 
about  it  are  strong,  and  backt  up  with  fine  ramparts.  It  lies 
near  the  Euganian  hills,  in  a  fertile  soil,  and  plain,  which  makes 


i8o  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  proverb  say  :  Bologna  la  grassa,  ma  Padua  la  passa.  It's 
famous  for  the  study  of  physick,  as  many  as  our  thrice  worthy 
physicians  in  England  can  testify.  The  chief  things  I  observed 
in  it  are  these  : 

1.  Antenor's  tomb  with  Gotick  letters  upon  it :  which  makes 
me  doubt  whether  this  tomb  be  so  ancient  as  they  make  it. 

2.  The  public  schools,  called  here  //  Bue,  or  Oxe  ;  what 
if  the  first  readers  here  came  from  Oxford,  as  they  did  to  the 
university  of  Pavia  ?  ^ 

3.  The  Physick  garden,  to  acquaint  the  students  in 
Physick,  with  nature  of  simples. 

4.  The  church  of  S.  Antony  of  Padua,  whose  body  lies  in 
the  open  chapel  on  the  left  hand  ;  and  this  chapel  is  adorned 
with  curious  figures  of  white  marble  representing  the  chief 
actions  of  this  saint's  life.-  Under  the  altar  reposeth  his 
body,  and  before  it,  hang  some  27  great  lamps  of  silver,  or 
silver  gilt.  Over  against  this  chappel,  stands  just  such  another 
open  chappel,  called  the  chappel  of  San  Felice,  which  is 
rarely  painted  by  famous  Giotto,  who  made  the  Campanile  of 
Florence.  In  a  side  chapel  on  the  right  hand,  is  the  tombe 
of  brave  Gatta  Mela,  whose  true  name  was  Erasmo  di  Narni, 
of  whom  more  by  and  by.  The  tombe  of  Alexander  Con- 
tareno.  General  of  the  Venetians,  and  it  is  one  of  the  best  cut 
tombs  I  have  seen.   .  .   . 

5.  Going  out  by  tliis  church  I  saw  the  Eguestris  statue  of 
Gatta  Mela,^  the  Venetians'  general,  whose  tomb  I  saw  even 
now  in  the  church.  He  was  nicknamed  (latta,  because  of  his 
watchfulness  in  carrying  business. 

6.  The  church  of  S.  Justina  is  one  of  the  first  churches  of 
Italy,  and  no  wonder,  seeing  its  architect  was  Palladio.   .  .  . 

^  The  origin  of  the  name  is  more  probably  from  a  formerly  adjacent 
tavern  with  the  ox  for  its  sign. 

-  St.  Antony  was  a  Portuguese,  born  in  1 195.  He  became  a  Fran- 
ciscan in  1 22 1  in  Spain,  and  endeavoured  to  i^reach  to  the  Moors  in  Africa  ; 
but,  being  taken  ill,  went  to  Assisi,  where  he  met  the  founder  of  his  order. 
He  is  always  spoken  of  as  "  il  santo,"  "  the  saint,"  in  Padua  ;  his  legend 
includes  a  sermon  to  the  fishes  (given  in  full  from  a  late  broad-sheet  by 
Addison),  which  is  a  parallel  to  St.  Francis'  sermon  to  the  birds.  St. 
Antony  is  believed  to  be  efficacious  by  sailors  when  there  is  no  wind.  The 
church  erected  in  his  name  is  a  curious  mixture  of  the  Lombard,  Gothic, 
and  Oriental  styles. 

"  Padua  ranks  only  second  to  Florence  for  the  study  of  Donatello. 
Besides  the  decorations  and  bas-reliefs  of  the  Sanfo,  the  statue  of  "  Gatta- 
mela"  (Erasmo  di  Narni)  is  of  the  highest  interest.  It  was  executed  forty 
years  before  the  Bartolomeo  Colleoni  at  Venice. 


VENICE   AND    TOWNS    OF   THE   ADRIATIC     i8i 

Before  this  church  and  monastery  hes  the  Campo  Santo,  and 
a  fair-field  where  they  keep  monthly  a  mercato  frattco,  and 
where  the  evening  Corso  is  kept,  by  ladies  and  noblemen  in 
their  coaches  in  the  summer. — Lassels. 


The  Chapel  of  the  Arena 

.  .  .  The  Pietk  of  Giotto,  in  this  little  chapel  at  Padua,  is 
now — as  it  was  first  painted  in  the  commencement  of  the 
fourteenth  century,  and  as  it  will  continue  to  be  so  long  as 
the  neglect  with  which  it  is  now  treated  allows  it  to  exist — 
one  of  the  great  paintings  of  the  world,  one  of  those  fountains 
from  which  school  after  school  and  age  after  age  of  artists 
may  drink  instruction  and  knowledge,  and  never  fail  to  gain 
more,  the  more  they  study  its  many  excellences,  and  its 
intensity  of  feeling  and  conception.  .  .  .  The  architectural 
merit  of  the  building  is  simply,  I  think,  that  it  performs  satis- 
factorily the  olBce  of  giving  ample  unbroken  surfaces  of  wall 
for  paintings.  The  arrangement  of  these  is  very  regular. 
The  vault  is  divided  into  two  parts  by  wide  coloured  borders, 
the  space  between  which  is  painted  blue,  powdered  with  gilt 
stars,  and  in  each  bay  there  are  five  small  medallions  with 
figures  on  a  gold  ground.  The  side  walls  are  divided  by 
borders  into  three  divisions  in  height ;  the  upper  division 
containing  subjects  from  the  life  of  the  Blessed  Virgin ;  the 
central,  those  illustrative  of  the  life  of  our  Blessed  Lord ; 
whilst  those  nearest  to  the  ground  are  representatives  of  the 
Virtues  and  Vices  opposed  to  each  other;  the  last  division 
tinted  only  in  one  colour,  the  others  richly  painted  in  beautiful 
colours  upon  a  field  of  deep  blue.  The  borders  which  divide 
the  paintings  are  very  satisfactory,  their  patterns  always  very 
clearly  defined  with  white  leading  lines,  a  line  of  red  on  either 
side  always  accompanying  each  line  of  white.  The  paintings 
themselves  are  very  wonderful :  there  is  an  earnestness  of 
purpose  and  expression  about  them  tuch  as  one  rarely  meets 
with  :  each  subject  is  treated  with  a  severe  conscientiousness, 
not  always  conventionally  where  a  departure  from  strict  rule 
is  for  any  reason  necessary,  but  still,  generally  speaking,  in 
accordance  no  doubt  with  the  ancient  traditional  treatment. 
This,  illuminated  as  it  is  by  the  thought  and  love  and  earnest 
intensity  of  feeling  which  Giotto  lavished  on  all  that  he  did, 
makes  his  work  here  the  most  perfect  example  of  a  series 
of  religious  pictures  which  I  have  ever  seen.     Of  course  in 


i82  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

such  a  large  series  of  subjects  there  must  be  great  variety  of 
excellence,  and  I  am  content  to  agree  with  the  rest  of  the  world 
in  awarding  the  palm  of  excellence  to  the  Pieta,  in  which  the 
expression  of  intense  feeling  in  the  face  of  the  mourners  over 
the  body  of  our  Lord  is  certainly  beyond  anything  of  the  kind 
that  I  know.  Throughout  the  subjects  our  Lord,  the  Blessed 
Virgin,  and  the  apostles  are  represented  always  in  vestments 
of  the  same  colour. — G.  E.  Street. 

The  University 

During  the  various  revolutions  that  followed  the  fall  and 
dismemberment  of  the  Roman  empire,  Padua,  in  the  intervals 
of  repose  that  followed  each  successive  shock,  endeavoured 
to  repair  the  shattered  temple  of  the  Muses,  and  to  revive 
the  sacred  fire  of  knowledge.  Some  success  always  attended 
these  laudable  exertions,  and  a  beam  of  science  occasionally 
broke  through  the  gloom  of  war  and  of  barbarism.  At  length, 
the  university  was  founded  about  the  end  of  the  eleventh 
century,  and  its  foundation  was  to  Padua  the  commencement 
of  an  era  of  glory  and  of  prosperity.  Its  fame  soon  spread 
over  Europe,  and  attracted  to  its  schools  prodigious  numbers 
of  students  from  all,  even  the  most  remote  countries ;  while 
the  reputation  of  its  professors  was  so  great,  and  their  station 
so  honourable,  that  even  nobles,  at  a  time  when  nobles  were 
considered  as  beings  of  a  more  elevated  nature,  were  ambitious 
to  be  enrolled  in  their  number.  Eighteen  thousand  students 
are  said  to  have  crowded  the  schools  during  ages ;  and  amidst 
the  multitude  were  seen,  not  Italians  and  Dalmatians,  Greek 
and  Latin  Christians  only ;  but  even  Turks,  Persians,  and 
Arabians,  are  said  to  have  travelled  from  the  distant  regions 
of  the  East  to  improve  their  knowledge  of  medicine  and 
botany,  by  the  lectures  of  the  learned  Paduans.  Hence  the 
catalogue  of  the  students  of  this  University  is  rich  in  numbers 
and  in  illustrious  names.  Petrarca,  Galileo,  and  Christopher 
Columbus,  applied  here,  each  to  his  favourite  art,  and  in 
classics,  astronomy,  and  navigation,  collected  the  materials 
that  were  to  form  their  future  fame  and  fortune. — Eustace. 

The  House  of  Petrarch  ^ 

At  Padua,  I  was  too  near  the  last  and  one  of  the  most 
celebrated  abodes  of  Petrarch,   to  make  the  omission  of  a 

'   In  a  villaiTc  near  Padua. 


VENICE    AND   TOWNS    OF   THE   ADRIATIC     183 

visit  excusable ;  had  I  not  been  in  a  disposition  to  render 
such  a  pilgrimage  peculiarly  pleasing.  I  set  forwards  from 
Padua  after  dinner,  so  as  to  arrive  some  time  before  sunset. 
Nothing  could  be  finer  than  the  day ;  and  I  had  every  reason 
to  promise  myself  a  serene  and  delicious  hour,  before  the 
sun  might  go  down.  I  put  the  poems  of  Petrarch  into  my 
pocket ;  and,  as  my  road  lay  chiefly  through  lanes,  planted 
on  either  side  with  mulberries  and  poplars,  from  which 
vines  hung  dangling  in  careless  festoons,  I  found  many  a 
bowering  shade,  where  I  sat,  at  intervals,  to  indulge  my 
pensive  humour  over  some  ejaculatory  sonnet ;  as  the  pilgrim, 
on  his  journey  to  Loretto,  reposes  here  and  there,  to  offer 
his  prayers  and  meditations  to  the  Virgin.  In  little  more 
than  an  hour  and  half,  I  found  myself  in  the  midst  of  the 
Euganean  hills,  and,  after  winding  almost  another  hour 
amongst  them,  I  got,  before  I  was  well  aware,  into  the  village 
of  Arqua.  Nothing  can  be  more  sequestered  or  obscure  than 
its  situation.  It  had  rather  a  deserted  appearance  ;  several 
of  its  houses  being  destitute  of  inhabitants,  and  crumbling 
into  ruins.  Two  or  three  of  them,  however,  exhibited  ancient 
towers,  richly  mantled  with  ivy,  and  surrounded  with  cypress, 
that  retained  the  air  of  having  once  belonged  to  persons  of 
consideration.  Their  present  abandoned  state  nourished  the 
melancholy  idea  with  which  I  entered  the  village.  Could  one 
approach  the  last  retreat  of  genius,  and  not  look  for  some 
glow  of  its  departed  splendour  ? 

"  Dear  to  the  pensive  eye  of  fond  regret, 
Is  light  still  beaming  from  a  sun  that's  set." 

The  residence  of  Petrarch  at  Arqua  is  said  to  have  drawn 
thither  from  Padua  the  society  of  its  more  enlightened  citizens. 
This  city,  whilst  Petrarch  lived  in  its  neighbourhood,  was 
engaged  in  rebellion  against  the  Venetians ;  and  Francis  de 
Carrara,  the  head  of  it,  went  often  to  Arqua,  to  consult 
Petrarch  ;  when  he  found  himself  obliged  to  sue  to  Venice  for 
peace.  The  poet  was  indeed  deputed,  upon  this  occasion,  his 
ambassador  to  the  state ;  as  being  a  person  whose  character 
and  credit  were  most  likely  to  appease  its  wrath.  His  success 
in  this  embassy  might,  perhaps,  have  been  some  recompense 
for  an  employment  he  accepted  with  much  regret,  as  it  forced 
him  from  his  beloved  retirement.  In  a  letter  to  one  of  his 
friends,  written  about  this  period  of  his  life,  he  says  :  "  I  pass 
the  greatest  part  of  the  year  in  the  country,  which   I  have 


i84  THE    BOOK   OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

always  preferred  to  cities  :  I  read ;  I  write ;  I  think  :  thus,  my 
Ufa  and  my  pleasures  are  like  those  of  youth.  I  take  pains 
to  hide  myself;  but  I  cannot  escape  visits:  it  is  an  honour 
which  displeases  and  wearies  me.  In  my  little  house  on  the 
Euganean  hills,  I  hope  to  pass  my  few  remaining  days  in 
tranquillity,  and  to  have  always  before  my  eyes  my  dead,  or 
my  absent,  friends."  I  was  musing  on  these  circumstances 
as  I  walked  along  the  village,  till  a  venerable  old  woman, 
seated  at  her  door  with  her  distaff  in  her  hand,  observing 
me,  soon  guessed  the  cause  of  my  excursion  ;  and  offered  to 
guide  me  to  Petrarch's  house.  The  remainder  of  my  way  was 
short,  and  well  amused  by  my  guide's  enthusiastic  expressions 
of  veneration  for  the  poet's  memory ;  which,  she  assured  me, 
she  felt  but  in  common  with  the  other  inhabitants  of  the 
village.  When  we  came  to  the  door  of  the  house,  we  met  the 
peasant,  its  present  possessor.  The  old  woman,  recommend- 
ing the  stranger  and  his  curiosity  to  her  neighbour's  good 
offices,  departed.  I  entered  immediately,  and  ran  over  every 
room,  which  the  peasant  assuied  me,  in  confirmation  of  what 
I  before  learnt  from  better  authority,  were  preserved,  as  nearly 
as  they  could  be,  in  the  state  Petrarch  had  left  them. 

The  house  and  premises,  having  unfortunately  been  trans- 
mitted from  one  enthusiast  of  his  name  to  another,  no  tenants 
have  been  admitted,  but  under  the  strictest  prohibition  of 
making  any  change  in  the  form  of  the  apartments,  or  in  the 
memorial  relics  belonging  to  the  place ;  and,  to  say  the  truth, 
everything  I  saw  in  it,  save  a  few  articles  of  the  peasant's 
furniture  in  the  kitchen,  has  an  authentic  appearance.  .  .  . 
Its  walls  were  adorned  with  landscapes  and  pastoral  scenes,  in 
such  painting  as  Petrarch  himself  might,  and  is  supposed  to 
have  executed.  Void  of  taste  and  elegance,  either  in  the 
design  or  colouring,  they  bear  some  characteristic  marks  of 
the  age  to  which  they  are,  with  no  improbability,  assigned ; 
and,  separate  from  the  merit  of  exhibiting  repeatedly  the  por- 
traits of  Petrarch  and  Laura,  are  a  valuable  sketch  of  the  rude 
infancy  of  the  art,  where  it  rose  with  such  hasty  vigour  to 
perfection.  Having  seen  all  that  was  left  unchanged  in  this 
consecrated  mansion,  I  passed  through  a  room,  said  to  have 
been  the  bard's  bed-room,  and  stepped  into  the  garden,  situated 
on  a  green  slope,  descending  directly  from  the  house.  It  is 
now  rather  an  orchard  than  a  garden  ;  a  spot  of  small  extent, 
and  without  much  else  to  recommend  it,  but  that  it  once  was 
the  property  of  Petrarch.     It  is  not  pretended  to  have  retained 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS    OF   THE   ADRIATIC     185 

the  form  in  which  he  left  it.  An  agreeably  wild  and  melan- 
choly kind  of  view,  which  it  commands  over  the  Euganean  hills, 
and  which  I  beheld  under  the  calm  glow  of  approaching  sun- 
set, must  often,  at  the  same  moment,  have  soothed  the  poet's 
anxious  feelings,  and  hushed  his  active  imagination,  as  it  did 
my  own,  into  a  delicious  repose.  Having  lingered  here  till 
the  sun  was  sunk  beneath  the  horizon,  I  was  led  a  little  way 
farther  in  the  village,  to  see  Petrarch's  fountain.  Hippocrene 
itself  could  not  have  been  more  esteemed  by  the  poet,  than 
this,  his  gift,  by  all  the  inhabitants  of  Arqua.  The  spring  is 
copious,  clear,  and  of  excellent  water  ;  I  need  not  say  with 
what  relish  I  drank  of  it.  The  last  religious  act  in  my  pilgrim- 
age was  a  visit  to  the  church-yard,  where  I  strewed  a  few 
flowers,  the  fairest  of  the  season,  on  the  poet's  tomb ;  and 
departed  for  Padua  by  the  light  of  the  moon. — Beckford. 


MANTUA 

Mantua  belongs  to  a  sovereign  duke  or  prince  of  the 
house  of  Gonzague.  It  stands  in  the  midst  of  marshes  which 
are  nourished  by  the  river  Mincius  :  so  that  there's  no  coming 
to  it  but  by  two  long  bridges  over  the  lake.  ...  As  for 
Mantua  itself,  it's  well  built,  and  full  of  good  houses.  The 
duke's  palace  was  heretofore  one  of  the  richest  of  Italy.  I 
was  told  it  had  seven  changes  of  hangings  for  every  room  in 
the  house;  besides  a  world  of  rare  pictures,  statues,  plate, 
ornaments,  cabinets,  an  unicornes'  horn,  an  organ  of  alabaster  ; 
six  tables,  each  one  three  feet  long,  the  first  all  emerauds,  the 
second  of  Turkey  stones,  the  third  of  hyacinths,  the  fourth  of 
saphyrs,  the  fifth  of  amber,  the  sixth  of  jaspar  stone.  But  the 
Imperialists  swept  all  away.  The  origin  of  the  house  of 
Gonzague  is  from  Germany.  For  a  long  time  they  were  only 
Marquises  of  Mantua,  till  Charles  the  Fifth  made  them  dukes. 
The  revenues  of  this  prince  are  about  five  hundred  thousand 
crowns.  His  interest  (as  that  of  the  other  lesser  princes  of 
Italy)  is  to  join  with  the  stronger  of  the  two  nations,  France 
or  Spain.  And  he  hath  been  often  forced  to  put  now  and 
then  a  French  garrison,  now  and  then  a  Spanish  garrison 
into  his  strong  town  of  Casal,  one  of  the  strongest  places  I 
saw  in  all  Italy :  having  an  excellent  Cittadel  at  one  end  of  it ; 
a  strong  castle  at  the  other,  and  strong  ditches,  walls,  and 
ramparts  everywhere.  In  fine,  this  Duke  can  raise,  about 
fifteen  thousand  foot,  and  two  thousand  horse. — Lassels. 


i86  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 


Thp:  Cathedral 

Mantua  is  a  large  city,  with  spacious  streets,  and  some 
fine  edifices.  Its  cathedral,  built  nearly  upon  the  same  plan 
as  Santa  Maria  Maggiore  in  Rome,  is  a  very  regular  and 
beautiful  edifice.  The  nave  consists  of  two  rows  of  Corinthian 
pillars,  supporting,  not  arches,  but  an  architrave  and  cornice, 
with  a  range  of  windows  above,  and  niches  in  the  intervals 
between  them.  Another  row  of  pillars  of  the  same  order, 
on  both  sides,  forms  a  double  aisle.  The  choir  consists  of  a 
semicircular  recess  behind  the  altar.  Between  the  choir  and 
the  nave  rises  a  very  noble  dome,  decorated  with  pilasters  and 
fine  paintings.  The  transept  on  the  left  terminates  in  the 
chapel  of  the  Holy  Sacrament,  a  hexagon,  with  a  recess  for 
the  altar,  surmounted  with  a  dome,  adorned  with  paintings 
and  arabesques  in  the  best  style,  presenting,  on  the  whole,  an 
exquisite  specimen  of  Mantuan  taste. — Eustace. 

Palazzo  del  Ti:^ 

The  Palazzo  Te  .  .  .  is  indeed  as  singular  a  place  as  ever  I 
saw.  Not  for  its  dampness,  though  it  is  very  damp.  Nor  for 
its  desolate  condition,  though  it  is  as  desolate  and  neglected 
as  house  can  be.  But  chiefly  for  the  unaccountable  night- 
mares with  which  its  interior  has  been  decorated  (among  other 
subjects  of  more  delicate  execution)  by  Giulio  Romano. 
There  is  a  leering  Giant  over  a  certain  chimney-piece,  and 
there  are  dozens  of  Giants  (Titans  warring  with  Jove)  on  the 
walls  of  another  room,  so  inconceivably  ugly  and  grotesque, 
that  it  is  marvellous  how  any  man  can  have  imagined  such 
creatures.  In  the  chamber  in  which  they  abound,  these 
monsters,  with  swollen  faces  and  cracked  cheeks,  and  every 
kind  of  distortion  of  look  and  limb,  are  depicted  as  stagger- 
ing under  the  weight  of  falling  buildings,  and  being  over- 
whelmed in  the  ruins  ;  upheaving  masses  of  rock,  and  burying 
themselves  beneath  ;  vainly  striving  to  sustain  the  pillars  of 
heavy  roofs  that  tumble  down  upon  their  heads ;  and,  in  a 
word,  undergoing  and  doing  every  kind  of  mad  and  demoniacal 
destruction.— Z^/V/^fw^. 

'  So  called  because  the  building  is  in  the  form  of  a  T.  Without  follow- 
ing Dickens  always  as  a  judge  of  art,  his  estimate  here  is  just  enough. 


VENICE    AND   TOWNS    OF   THE    ADRIATIC     187 


The  Triumph  of  Cacsar 

The  most  famous  work  of  Mantegna  can  only  be  de- 
scribed from  Vasari's  account :  "  At  the  time  when  he  was 
Hving  in  Mantua,  Andrea  had  been  frequently  employed  by 
the  Marquis  Ludovico  Gonzaga,  who  always  favoured  him 
and  esteemed  his  talents  very  highly.  That  noble  caused  him 
therefore  to  paint,  among  other  works,  a  small  picture  for  the 
chapel  in  the  castle  of  Mantua;  the  figures  in  this  work  are 
not  very  large,  but  are  exceedingly  beautiful.  In  the  same 
painting  are  various  forms,  which,  as  seen  from  below,  are 
foreshortened  in  a  manner  that  has  been  much  extolled ;  and 
although  the  draperies  are  somewhat  hard,  and  the  work  has 
a  certain  dryness  of  manner,  the  whole  is  nevertheless  seen 
to  be  executed  with  much  art  and  great  care.  For  the  same 
marquis,  Andrea  painted  the  Triumph  of  Casar,  in  a  hall  of 
the  palace  of  San  Sebastiano,  in  Mantua.  This  is  the  best 
work  ever  executed  by  his  hand.  Here  are  seen  in  most 
admirable  arrangement  the  rich  and  beautiful  triumphal  car, 
with  the  figure  who  is  vituperating  the  triumphant  hero ;  as 
also  the  kindred,  the  perfumes,  the  incense-bearers,  the  booty, 
and  treasures  seized  by  the  soldiers,  the  well-ordered  phalanx, 
the  elephants,  the  spoils  of  art,  the  victories,  cities,  and  for- 
tresses, exhibited  in  admirably  counterfeited  forms,  on  huge 
cars,  the  numerous  trophies  borne  aloft  on  spears,  an  infinite 
variety  of  helmets,  corslets,  and  arms  of  all  kinds,  with  orna- 
ments, vases,  and  rich  vessels  innumerable.  Among  the 
multitude  of  spectators,  there  is  a  woman  who  holds  a  child 
by  the  hand ;  the  boy  has  got  a  thorn  in  his  foot,  and  this  he 
shows  weeping  to  his  mother,  with  much  grace  and  in  a  very 
natural  manner." 

Symonds  describes  the  vicissitudes  of  the  Triumph  of 
CcBsar  as  follows:  "Painted  on  canvas  in  tempera  for  the 
Marquis  of  Mantua,  before  1488,  looted  by  the  Germans  in 
1630,  sold  to  Charles  I.,  resold  by  the  Commonwealth,  bought 
back  by  Charles  II.,  and  now  exposed,  much  spoiled  by  time 
and  change,  but  more  by  villainous  repainting,  on  the  walls 
of  Hampton  Court."  Of  pictures  painted  by  Mantegna  for 
the  Paradiso  of  Isabella  d'Este,  two  are  in  the  Louvre.  A 
model  of  the  marvellous  decoration  of  this  tiny  room  is  in 
South  Kensington  Museum. — Ed. 


i88  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 


FERRARAi 

This  town  of  Ferrara  was  once  the  seat  of  a  sovereign 
prince  of  the  house  of  Este,  but  for  want  of  heirs  male  after 
the  death  of  Alfonso  the  Second  it  fell  to  the  Church,  and 
Clement  Vlllth  took  possession  of  it  in  person  by  an  entry 
and  ceremony  worthy  of  the  pen  of  Cardinal  Bentivoglio  who 
was  there.  The  town  stands  in  a  plain,  carrying  above  four 
miles  compass  ;  it  hath  a  good  citadell,  strong  walls,  bulwarks  : 
and  a  good  garrison  of  soldiers.  Here  are  fair  streets  and 
very  handsome  palaces ;  but  people  are  somewhat  thin. — 
Lassels. 

Relics  of  Ariosto  and  Tasso 

The  tomb  of  Ariosto  occupies  one  end  of  the  largest 
saloon  of  which  the  library  is  composed ;  it  is  formed  of 
various  marbles,  surrounded  by  an  expressive  bust  of  the 
poet,  and  subscribed  with  a  few  Latin  verses,  in  a  less 
miserable  taste  than  those  usually  employed  for  similar  pur- 
poses. But  the  most  interesting  exhibitions  here,  are  the 
writings,  &c.,  of  Ariosto  and  Tasso,  which  are  preserved,  and 
were  concealed  from  the  undistinguishing  depredations  of  the 
French  with  pious  care.  There  is  the  arm-chair  of  Ariosto, 
an  old  plain  wooden  piece  of  furniture,  the  hard  seat  of  which 
was  once  occupied  by,  but  has  now  survived  its  cushion,  as 
it  has  its  master.  I  could  fancy  Ariosto  sitting  in  it ;  and  the 
satires  in  his  own  handwriting  which  they  unfold  beside  it, 
and  the  old  bronze  inkstand,  loaded  with  figures,  which 
belonged  also  to  him,  assists  the  willing  delusion.  This 
inkstand  has  an  antique,  rather  than  an  ancient  appearance. 
Three  nymphs  lean  forth  from  the  circumference,  and  on  the 
top  of  the  lid  stands  a  cupid,  winged  and  looking  up,  with  a 
torch  in  one  hand,  his  bow  in  the  other,  and  his  quiver  beside 
him.  A  medal  was  bound  round  the  skeleton  of  Ariosto, 
with  his  likeness  impressed  upon  it.  I  cannot  say  I  think 
it  had  much  native  expression ;  but,  perhaps,  the  artist  was 
in  fault.     On  the  reverse  is  a  handj  cutting  with  a  pair  of 

1  No  traveller  gives  us  an  adequate  reference  to  the  Romanesque 
Duomo,  of  which  Leader  Scott  writes,  "  The  fagade  has  the  usual  three 
perpendicular  divisions  formed  by  means  of  chiselled  shafts,  but  each 
division  is  divided  horizontally  into  three  levels,  each  one  enriched  with 
Lombard  galleries.  Besides  these  is  a  wealth  of  ornamentation,  figures, 
reliefs,  trafori  (open  work)  and  foliage  of  the  most  fantastic  kind." 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     189 

scissors  the  tongue  from  a  serpent,  upraised  from  the  grass, 
with  this  legend — Pro  bono  malum.  What  this  reverse  of 
the  boasted  Christian  maxim  means,  or  how  it  appUes  to 
Ariosto,  either  as  a  satirist  or  a  serious  writer,  I  cannot 
exactly  tell.  The  cicerone  attempted  to  explain,  and  it  is  to 
his  commentary  that  my  bewildering  is  probably  due — if, 
indeed,  the  meaning  be  very  plain,  as  is  possibly  the  case. 

There  is  here  a  manuscript  of  the  entire  Geriisalemme 
Liberata,  written  by  Tasso's  own  hand  ;  a  manuscript  of  some 
poems,  written  in  prison,  to  the  Duke  Alfonso  :  and  the  satires 
of  Ariosto,  written  also  by  his  own  hand  ;  and  the  Pastor  Fido 
of  Guarini.  The  Gerusalemme,  though  it  had  evidently  been 
copied  and  recopied,  is  interlined,  particularly  towards  the  end, 
with  numerous  corrections.  The  hand-writing  of  Ariosto  is  a 
small,  firm,  and  pointed  character,  expressing,  as  I  should  say, 
a  strong  and  keen,  but  circumscribed  energy  of  mind ;  that  of 
Tasso  is  large,  free,  and  flowing,  except  that  there  is  a  checked 
expression  in  the  midst  of  its  flow,  which  brings  the  letters 
into  a  smaller  compass  than  one  expected  from  the  beginning 
of  the  word.  It  is  the  symbol  of  an  intense  and  earnest  mind, 
exceeding  at  times  its  own  depth,  and  admonished  to  return 
by  the  chillness  of  the  waters  of  oblivion  striking  upon  its 
adventurous  feet.  .  .  . 

We  went  afterwards  to  see  his  prison  in  the  hospital  of 
Sant'  Anna,  and  I  enclose  you  a  piece  of  the  wood  of  the 
very  door,  which  for  seven  years  and  three  months  divided 
this  glorious  being  from  the  air  and  the  light  which  had 
nourished  in  him  those  influences  which  he  has  communi- 
cated, through  his  poetry,  to  thousands.  The  dungeon  is 
low  and  dark,  and  when  I  say  that  it  is  really  a  very  decent 
dungeon,  I  speak  as  one  who  has  seen  the  prisons  in  the 
doges'  palace  of  Venice.  But  it  is  a  horrible  abode  for  the 
coarsest  and  meanest  thing  that  ever  wore  the  shape  of  man, 
much  more  for  one  of  delicate  susceptibilities  and  elevated 
fancies.  It  is  low,  and  has  a  grated  window,  and  being  sunk 
some  feet  below  the  level  of  the  earth,  is  full  of  unwholesome 
damps.  In  the  darkest  corner  is  a  mark  in  the  wall  where 
the  chains  were  riveted,  which  bound  him  hand  and  foot. 
After  some  time,  at  the  instance  of  some  Cardinal,  his  friend, 
the  Duke  allowed  his  victim  a  fire-place ;  the  mark  where  it 
was  walled  up  yet  remains. ^ — Shelley. 

1  Montaigne  passed  through  Ferrara  while  Tasso  was  in  the  hospital 
prison  of  St.  Anna.  He  does  not  mention  the  fact  of  Tasso's  imprison- 
ment, and  there  is  no  evidence  that  the  two  men  ever  met. 


I90  THE    BOOK   OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


RAVENNA 

The  main,  if  not  the  whole,  interest  of  Ravenna  .  .  . 
centres  in  its  history,  as  displayed  in  its  tombs  and  mosaics 
within  the  churches.  I  will  go  briefly  through  its  several 
points. 

B^irst,  the  last  refuge  of  the  Western  Empire.  This  is 
centred  in  the  extraordinary  tomb  of  Galla  Placidia.  A  low 
brick  wall,  a  low  brick  octagon  tower — this  is  the  exterior. 
The  interior  is  a  dark  chapel,  with  three  recesses,  every  vault 
and  arch  of  which  glitters  or  darkens,  as  the  case  may  be,  with 
mosaics — those  well-known  old  mosaics  of  the  stags  at  the 
water  brooks,  and  the  youthful  shepherd  sitting  with  his 
flocks,  and  the  Evangelistic  beasts,  and  in  each  of  the  three 
recesses  a  huge  marble  sarcophagus — Galla  Placidia  in  the 
centre,  Honorius  on  the  right,  Constantius  on  the  left.  As 
late  as  1577  Placidia  herself  was  to  be  seen  sitting,  like 
Charlemagne  in  later  times,  wrapped  in  her  imperial  robes, 
seated  on  a  throne  of  cypress.  Through  the  aperture  which 
revealed  this  wonderful  sight  three  children  put  in  a  light ; 
the  robes  caught  fire;  and  in  a  moment  all  that  remained  of 
the  daughter  of  Theodosius,  the  sister  of  Arcadius  and 
Honorius,  the  wife  of  Adolphus  and  Constantius,  the  Empress 
of  Aetius,  and  Boniface,  the  mother  of  Valentinian  III.,  was 
reduced  to  ashes.  "  Adesso,"  said  the  guide  with  a  grim 
smile,  'non  c'e  Galla  Placidia."  But  though  this  be  so,  it  is 
still  a  spot  of  unique  interest,  so  little  changed  since  those 
awful  times  of  a  dissolving  world,  so  humble  without  and  so 
proud  within,  the  close  of  the  most  romantic  life  in  the 
Imperial  family  ! 

Secondly,  the  Gothic  kingdom.  Three  monuments  re- 
main :  the  palace  of  Theodoric,  where  he  died  of  seeing  the 
ghost  of  Symmachus  in  the  large  fish  on  his  table,  a  mere 
fragment;  the  Basilica^  close  by  ...  as  St.  Mark's  at  Venice' 
for  the  doges ;  and  outside  the  walls,  in  the  green  fields  and 
hedges,  a  huge  well-built  mausoleum  like  Ceciha  Metella's  or 
Hadrian's,  on  the  top  of  which  once  rested  his  ashes  till  they 
were  scattered,  as  Arian  by  the  Athanasian  Greeks.  On  the 
whole  this  CiOthic  period  is  the  least  impressive. 

Thirdly,  the  Exarchate.     All  the  most  interesting  mosaics, 
and  two  of  the  chief  churches,  St.  Vitalis  and  St.  Apollinaris, 
^  Restored  in  the  eighteenth  century. 


VENICE    AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     191 

both  built  by  a  Ravenna  banker  (Julianus  &  Co.)  at  the  same 
time,  one  within,  one  without  the  walls,  are  of  this  period. 
The  most  remarkable  are  the  great  representations,  in  St. 
Vitalis,  of  Justinian  and  Theodora  .  .  .  and  in  St.  Apollinaris, 
of  Constantine  Pogonatus  with  his  two  brothers.  They  seem 
to  be  the  only  existing  pictures  of  the  Byzantine  court,  and, 
though  stiff  like  all  mosaics,  it  is  something  to  look  on  the 
very  figure  of  those  departed  potentates.  Justinian,  as  also 
Constantine,  is  headless  (?),  clothed  in  purple,  with  a  diadem 
and  a  glory  of  a  saint  round  his  head.  Theodora,  the  in- 
famous Theodora,  has  the  same  ;  her  eyes  are  very  large,  her 
face  thin,  her  mouth  small.  Her  benefactions  to  this  church 
were  among  the  last  acts  of  her  life.  She  died  in  the  year  it 
was  finished  ;  so  we  here  see  the  last  of  her.  Beside  Justinian 
stand  the  Varangian  guards,  Anglo-Saxons,  now  first  appearing 
in  historical  monuments. — Dean  Stanley. 

S.  Apollinare 

The  building  belongs  to  the  sixth  century,  but  the  un- 
alterable mosaics  covering  the  frieze  of  the  nave  on  both  sides, 
shew  as  clearly  as  ever  what  Greek  art  had  become  in  the 
monastic  minds  of  the  quibbling  theologians  and  the  artificial 
rulers  of  the  later  Empire.  It  is  still  Greek  art  influencing 
humanity  even  at  a  remove  often  centuries  from  the  Parthenon, 
and  the  talkative  fools  who  now  strut  on  the  mundane  stage 
still  see,  although  with  blinking  eyes  and  as  though  through  a 
fog,  the  grand  forms  and  flowing  draperies  which  were  dis- 
posed in  order  on  the  fagade  of  the  pagan  temples.  Here 
above  the  columns  the  processions  move,  one  of  twenty-two 
women  saints  toward  the  Virgin,  another  of  the  same  number 
of  saintly  men  towards  the  Christ.  In  neither  case  is  the 
expressive  ugliness,  and  the  exact  imitation  of  the  vulgar 
truth  of  medifevalism,  yet  to  be  seen  ;  rather  we  might  say 
the  women  have  dignified  figures,  inclining  to  tallness,  and  in 
their  reserved  dignity  have  an  antique  grace.  Their  hair  falls 
behind  and  is  bound  up  on  the  brow  like  the  head-dress  of 
the  nymphs,  while  their  stole  droops  in  long,  severe  folds ;  the 
male  figures  in  single  file  are  as  grave  in  expression,  while 
near  both  the  Christ  and  the  Virgin  white-robed  angels,  with 
white-cinctured  brows,  are  in  prayer.  But  here  the  artistic 
tradition  ends,  for  all  the  artist  has  learnt  from  it  is  that  the 
figure  must  be  draped,  that  such  a  mode  of  the  arrangement 


192  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

of  the  hair,  or  such  facial  expression  is  to  be  preferred.  No 
longer  is  there  any  observation  of  life,  or  of  the  young  and 
healthy  spirit  existing  behind  the  outward  seeming  :  the 
Fathers  of  the  Church  have  forbidden  it.  .  .  . 

The  baptistery  ...  is  of  the  fifth  century.  Heavy 
arabesques  cover  the  walls,  and  on  the  vault  is  to  be  seen 
the  baptism  of  Jesus  Christ,  around  whom  is  the  circle  of  the 
twelve  apostles,  gigantic  figures  in  white  tunics  and  gilded 
mantles.  The  heads  are  small,  but  of  surprising  length,  the 
shoulders  narrow  and  the  eyes  sunk  deep  in  their  sockets. 
Nevertheless  the  rule  of  asceticism  has  not  emaciated  them  to 
the  same  extent  as  the  descendants  of  a  century  later  in  San 
Vitale.  ...  St.  Apollinare  in  Classe  is  on  a  road  where 
stands  a  marble  column,  itself  the  sole  survival  of  an  entire 
quarter  of  the  town  and  the  last  remnant  of  a  destroyed 
basilica.  St.  Apollinare  in  Classe  seems  also  deserted  :  it 
exists  alone  in  the  desolate  part  which  was  once  a  quarter  of 
Ravenna.^ — Tai?ie. 

RIMINI  2 

Rimini  has  nothing  modern  to  boast  of.  Its  antiquities 
are  as  follow  :  A  marble  bridge  of  five  arches,  built  by  Augustus 
and  Tiberius,  for  the  inscription  is  still  legible,  though  not 
rightly  transcribed  by  Gruter.  A  triumphal  arch  raised  by 
Augustus,  which  makes  a  noble  gate  to  the  town,  though  part 
of  it  is  ruined.  The  ruins  of  an  amphitheatre.  The  Suggestum, 
on  which  it  is  said  that  Julius  Caesar  harangued  his  army  after 
having  passed  the  Rubicon.  I  must  confess  I  can  by  no 
means  look  on  this  last  as  authentic ;  it  is  built  of  hewn  stone, 
like  the  pedestal  of  a  pillar,  but  something  higher  than  ordi- 
nary, and  is  but  just  broad  enough  for  one  man  to  stand  upon 
it.  On  the  contrary,  the  ancient  Suggestums,  as  I  have  often 
observed  on  medals  as  well  as  on  Constantine's  arch,  were 
made  of  wood  like  a  little  kind  of  stage,  for  the  heads  of  the 
nails  are  sometimes  represented,  that  are  supposed  to  have 
fastened   the  boards   together.      We  often   see  on   them   the 

^  Concerning  the  Danle  tomb  in  Ravenna,  Dean  Stanley  well  said 
"in  the  town  .  .  .  you  cannot  realise  his  presence."  The  Fineta  or  pine 
forest  with  which  the  great  poet's  name  is  associated  has  been  in  great 
part  burnt  down. 

'•^  Halfway  between  Bologna  and  Rimini  is  Faenza,  of  which  Lassels 
writes,  "having  no  considerable  thing  in  it  but  white  earthern  pots,  called 
vessels  of  Faenza."     Hence  the  French  vfoxdfaietue. 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS    OF   THE   ADRIATIC     193 

emperor,  and  two  or  three  general  officers,  sometimes  sitting 
and  sometimes  standing,  as  they  made  speeches,  or  distributed 
a  congiary  to  the  soldiers  or  people.  They  were  probably 
always  in  readiness,  and  carried  among  the  baggage  of  the 
army,  whereas  this  at  Rimini  must  have  been  built  on  the 
place,  and  required  some  time  before  it  could  be  finished. — 
Addison. 

The  Cathedral  1 

It  is  here  that  all  the  Malatesti  lie.  Here  too  is  the  chapel 
consecrated  to  Isotta,  "  Divse  Isottse  Sacrum."  .  .  .  Nothing 
but  the  fact  that  the  church  is  duly  dedicated  to  St.  Francis, 
and  that  the  outer  shell  of  classic  marble  encases  an  old  Gothic 
edifice,  remains  to  remind  us  that  it  is  a  Christian  place  of 
worship.  It  has  no  sanctity,  no  spirit  of  piety.  The  pride 
of  the  tyrant  whose  legend — "  Sigismundus  Pandulphus  Mala- 
testa  Pan  F.  Fecit  Anno  Gratiae  mccccl  " — occupies  every  arch 
and  stringcourse  of  the  architecture,  and  whose  coat-of-arms 
and  portrait  in  medallion,  with  his  cipher  and  his  emblems  of 
an  elephant  and  a  rose,  are  wrought  in  every  piece  of  sculp- 
tured work  throughout  the  building,  seems  to  fill  this  house  of 
prayer  so  that  there  is  no  room  left  for  God. — -/.  A.  Sytiionds. 

SAN   MARINO 

The  town  and  republic  of  St.  Marino  stands  on  the  top  of 
a  very  high  and  craggy  mountain.  It  is  generally  hid  among 
the  clouds,  and  lay  under  snow  when  I  saw  it,  though  it  was 
clear  and  warm  weather  in  all  the  country  about  it.  There  is 
not  a  spring  or  fountain,  that  I  could  hear  of,  in  the  whole 
dominions,  but  they  are  always  well  provided  with  huge 
cisterns  and  reservoirs  of  rain  and  snow-water.  The  wine 
that  grows  on  the  sides  of  their  mountain  is  extraordinary 
good,  and  I  think  much  better  than  any  I  met  with  on  the 
cold  side  of  the  Apennines.  This  puts  me  in  mind  of  their 
cellars,  which  have  most  of  them  a  natural  advantage  that 
renders  them  extremely  cool  in  the  hottest  seasons,  for  they 
have  generally  in  the  sides  of  them  deep  holes  that  run  into 
the  hollows  of  the  hill,  from  whence  there  constantly  issues  a 
breathing  kind  of  vapour,  so  very  chiUing  in  the  summer-time, 
that  a  man  can  scarce  suffer  his  hand  in  the  wind  of  it. 

1  Mainly  executed  by  Leo  Battista  Albert!,  who,  for  his  versatility, 
was  almost  a  Leonardo,  at  a  date  fifty  years  earlier. 

N 


T94  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

This  mountain,  and  a  few  neighbouring  hillocks  that  lie 
scattered  about  the  bottom  of  it,  is  the  whole  circuit  of  these 
dominions.  They  have,  what  they  call,  three  castles,  three 
convents,  and  five  churches,  and  can  reckon  about  five  thou- 
sand souls  in  their  community.  The  inhabitants,  as  well  as 
the  historians  who  mention  this  little  republic,  give  the 
following  account  of  its  original.  St.  Marino  was  its  founder, 
a  Dalmatian  by  birth,  and  by  trade  a  mason.  He  was  em- 
ployed above  thirteen  hundred  years  ago  in  the  reparation  of 
Rimini,  and  after  he  had  finished  his  work,  retired  to  this 
solitary  mountain,  as  finding  it  very  proper  for  the  life  of  a 
hermit,  which  he  led  in  the  greatest  rigours  and  austerities  of 
religion.  He  had  not  been  long  here  before  he  wrought  a 
reputed  miracle,  which,  joined  with  his  extraordinary  sanctity, 
gained  him  so  great  an  esteem,  that  the  princess  of  the 
country  made  him  a  present  of  the  mountain,  to  dispose  of  at 
his  own  discretion.  His  reputation  quickly  peopled  it,  and 
gave  rise  to  the  republic  which  calls  itself  after  his  name.  So 
that  the  commonwealth  of  Marino  may  boast  at  least  of  a 
nobler  original  than  that  of  Rome,  the  one  having  been  at 
first  an  asylum  for  robbers  and  murderers,  and  the  other  a 
resort  of  persons  eminent  for  their  piety  and  devotion.  The 
best  of  their  churches  is  dedicated  to  the  saint,  and  holds  his 
ashes.  His  statue  stands  over  the  high  altar,  with  the  figure 
of  a  mountain  in  its  hands,  crowned  with  three  castles,  which 
is  likewise  the  arms  of  the  commonwealth.  They  attribute  to 
his  protection  the  long  duration  of  their  state,  and  look  on 
him  as  the  greatest  saint  next  the  blessed  Virgin.  I  saw  in 
their  statute-book  a  law  against  such  as  speak  disrespectfully 
of  him,  who  are  to  be  punished  in  the  same  manner  as  those 
who  are  convicted  of  blasphemy. 

This  petty  republic  has  now  lasted  thirteen  hundred  years, 
while  all  the  other  states  of  Italy  have  several  times  changed 
their  masters  and  forms  of  government.  Their  whole  history 
is  comprised  in  two  purchases,  which  they  made  of  a  neigh- 
bouring prince,  and  in  a  war  in  which  they  assisted  the  pope 
against  a  lord  of  Rimini.  In  the  year  iioo  they  bought  a 
castle  in  the  neighbourhood,  as  they  did  another  in  the  year 
1 1 70.  The  papers  of  the  conditions  are  preserved  in  their 
archives,  where  'tis  very  remarkable  that  the  name  of  the 
agent  for  the  commonwealth,  of  the  seller,  of  the  notary,  and 
the  witnesses,  are  the  same  in  both  the  instruments,  though 
drawn  up  at  seventy  years'  distance  from  each  other.     Nor 


VENICE   AND   TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     195 

can  it  be  any  mistake  in  the  date,  because  the  popes'  and  em- 
perors' names,  with  the  year  of  their  respective  reigns,  are 
both  punctually  set  down.  About  290  years  after  this  they 
assisted  Pope  Pius  the  Second  against  one  of  the  Malatestas, 
who  was  then  lord  of  Rimini ;  and  when  they  had  helped 
to  conquer  him,  received  from  the  pope,  as  a  reward  for 
their  assistance,  four  little  castles.  This  they  represent  as 
the  flourishing  time  of  the  commonwealth,  when  their  do- 
minions reached  half-way  up  a  neighbouring  hill ;  but  at 
present  they  are  reduced  to  their  old  extent.  They  would 
probably  sell  their  liberty  as  dear  as  they  could  to  any  that 
attacked  them ;  for  there  is  but  one  road  by  which  to  climb  up 
to  them,  and  they  have  a  very  severe  law  against  any  of  their 
own  body  that  enters  the  town  by  another  path,  lest  any 
new  one  should  be  worn  on  the  sides  of  their  mountain.  All 
that  are  capable  of  bearing  arms  are  exercised,  and  ready  at  a 
moment's  call. 

The  sovereign  power  of  the  republic  was  lodged  originally 
in  what  they  call  the  Arengo,  a  great  council,  in  which  every 
house  had  its  representative.  But  because  they  found  too 
much  confusion  in  such  a  multitude  of  statesmen,  they  de- 
volved their  whole  authority  into  the  hands  of  the  council  of 
sixty.  The  Arengo,  however,  is  still  called  together  in  cases 
of  extraordinary  importance ;  and  if,  after  due  summons,  any 
member  absents  himself,  he  is  to  be  fined  to  the  value  of 
about  a  penny  English,  which  the  statute  says  he  shall  pay, 
sine  aliqua  dhninutione  aut  gratia.  In  the  ordinary  course  of 
government,  the  council  of  sixty  (which,  notwithstanding  the 
name,  consists  but  of  forty  persons)  has  in  its  hands  the 
administration  of  affairs,  and  is  made  up  half  out  of  the  noble 
families,  and  half  out  of  the  plebeian.  They  decide  all  by 
balloting,  are  not  admitted  till  five  and  twenty  years  old,  and 
choose  the  officers  of  the  commonwealth. 

Thus  far  they  agree  with  the  great  council  of  Venice,  but 
their  power  is  much  more  extended ;  for  no  sentence  can 
stand  that  is  not  confirmed  by  two-thirds  of  this  council. 
Besides  that,  no  son  can  be  admitted  into  it  during  the  life 
of  his  father,  nor  two  be  in  it  of  the  same  family,  nor  any 
enter  but  by  election.  The  chief  officers  of  the  common- 
wealth are  the  two  capitaneos,  who  have  such  a  power  as  the 
old  Roman  consuls  had,  but  are  chosen  every  six  months.  I 
talked  with  some  that  had  been  capitaneos  six  or  seven  times, 
though  the  office  is  never  to  be  continued  to  the  same  persons 


196  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

twice  successively.  The  third  ofificer  is  the  commissary,  who 
judges  in  all  civil  and  criminal  matters.  But  because  the 
many  alliances,  friendships,  and  intermarriages,  as  well  as  the 
personal  feuds  and  animosities  that  happen  among  so  small  a 
people,  might  obstruct  the  course  of  justice,  if  one  of  their 
own  number  had  the  distribution  of  it,  they  have  always  a 
foreigner  for  this  employ,  whom  they  choose  for  three  years, 
and  maintain  out  of  the  public  stock.  He  must  be  a  doctor 
of  law,  and  a  man  of  known  integrity.  He  is  joined  in  com- 
mission with  the  capitaneos,  and  acts  something  like  the 
recorder  of  London  under  the  Lord  Mayor.  The  common- 
wealth of  Genoa  was  forced  to  make  use  of  a  foreign  judge 
for  many  years,  whilst  their  republic  was  torn  into  the 
divisions  of  Guelphs  and  Gibelines. 

The  fourth  man  in  the  state  is  the  physician,  who  must 
likewise  be  a  stranger,  and  is  maintained  by  a  public  salary. 
He  is  obliged  to  keep  a  horse,  to  visit  the  sick,  and  to  inspect 
all  drugs  that  arc  imported.  He  must  be  at  least  thirty-five 
years  old,  a  doctor  of  the  faculty,  and  eminent  for  his  religion 
and  honesty ;  that  his  rashness  or  ignorance  may  not  unpeople 
the  commonwealth.  And  that  they  may  not  suffer  long  under 
any  bad  choice,  he  is  elected  only  for  three  years.  The 
present  physician  is  a  very  understanding  man,  and  well  read 
in  our  countrymen,  Harvey,  Willis,  Sydenham,  etc.  He  has 
been  continued  for  some  time  among  them,  and  they  say  the 
commonwealth  thrives  under  his  hands.  Another  person  who 
makes  no  ordinary  figure  in  the  republic,  is  the  schoolmaster. 
I  scarce  met  with  any  in  the  place  that  had  not  some  tincture 
of  learning.  I  had  the  perusal  of  a  Latin  book  in  folio, 
entitled,  Statuia  IllustrissimcB  reipiiblicce  Sandi  Marini, 
printed  at  Rimini  by  order  of  the  commonwealth.  The 
chapter  on  the  public  ministers  says,  that  when  an  ambassa- 
dor is  despatched  from  the  republic  to  any  foreign  state,  he 
shall  be  allowed,  out  of  the  treasury,  to  the  value  of  a  shilling 
a  day.  The  people  are  esteemed  very  honest  and  rigorous 
in  the  execution  of  justice,  and  seem  to  live  more  happy  and 
contented  among  their  rocks  and  snows  than  others  of  the 
Italians  do  in  the  pleasantest  valleys  of  the  world.  Nothing, 
indeed,  can  be  a  greater  instance  of  the  natural  love  that 
mankind  has  for  liberty,  and  of  their  aversion  to  an  arbitrary 
government,  than  such  a  savage  mountain  covered  with 
people,  and  the  Campania  of  Rome,  which  lies  in  the  same 
country,  almost  destitute  of  inhabitants. — Addison. 


VENICE  AND  TOWNS   OF  THE   ADRIATIC     197 


URBINOi 

The  impression  left  upon  the  mind  after  traversing  this 
palace  in  its  length  and  breadth  is  one  of  weariness  and 
disappointment.  .  .  .  Are  these  chambers  really  those  where 
Emilia  Pia  held  debate  on  love  with  Bembo  and  Castiglione ; 
where  Bibbiena's  witticisms  and  Fra  Serafino's  pranks  raised 
smiles  on  courtly  lips ;  where  Bernardo  Accolti,  "  the 
Unique,"  declaimed  his  verses  to  admiring  crowds  ?  Is  it 
possible  that  into  yonder  hall,  where  now  the  lion  of  S.  Mark 
looks  down  alone  on  staring  desolation,  strode  the  Borgia  in 
all  his  panoply  of  war,  a  gilded  glittering  dragon,  and  from  the 
dais  tore  the  Montefeltri's  throne,  and  from  the  arras  stripped 
their  ensigns,  replacing  these  with  his  own  Bull  and  Valentinus 
Dux?  Here  Tasso  tuned  his  lyre  for  Francesco  Maria's 
wedding-feast,  and  read  Aminta  to  Lucrezia  d'Este.  Here 
Guidobaldo  listened  to  the  jests  and  whispered  scandals  to 
the  Aretine.  Here  Titian  set  his  easel  up  to  paint ;  here  the 
boy  Raphael,  cap  in  hand,  took  signed  and  sealed  credentials 
from  his  Dutchess  to  the  Gonfalier  of  Florence.  Somewhere 
in  these  huge  chambers,  the  courtiers  sat  before  a  torch-lit 
stage,  when  Bibbiena's  Calandria  and  Castiglione's  Tirsi,  with 
their  miracles  of  masques  and  mummers,  whirled  the  night 
away.  Somewhere,  we  know  not  where,  Giuliano  de'  Medici 
made  love  in  these  bare  rooms  to  that  mysterious  mother  of 
ill-fated  Cardinal  Ippolito ;  somewhere,  in  some  darker  nook, 
the  bastard  Alessandro  sprang  to  his  strange-fortuned  life  of 
tyranny  and  license,  which  Brutus-Lorenzino  cut  short  with  a 
traitor's  poignard-thrust  in  Via  Larga.  How  many  men, 
illustrious  for  arts  and  letters,  memorable  by  their  virtues 
or  their  crimes,  from  the  great  Pope  Julius  down  to 
James  HI.,  self-titled  King  of  England,  who  tarried  here 
with  Clementine  Sobieski  through  some  twelve  months  of 
his  ex-royal  exile  ! — Symonds. 

LORETTO 

Loretto  .  .  .  stands  on  a  rising  ground,  overlooking  a  fine 
plain,  and  beyond  this  at  no  great  distance,  the  Adriatic  sea, 
or  Gulf  of  Venice,   which   indeed  is   so  near  that,  in  clear 

^  Urbino  is  placed  in  this  section,  because  the  traveller  takes  coach 
from  Pesaro.  There  is  nothing  particular  to  be  said  about  the  Raphael 
house. 


198  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

weather,  you  can  see  the  Sclavonian  mountains  on  the  other 
side  of  the  gulf.  The  town  altogether  is  exceedingly  well 
situated.  There  are  very  few  inhabitants  beyond  those  who 
are  actually  engaged  in  the  services  of  devotion ;  or  indirectly 
innkeepers  .  .  .  and  dealers  in  wax-candles,  images,  beads, 
Agnus  Dei,  Salvators,  and  such  commodities ;  for  the  sale  of 
which  there  is  a  number  of  fine  shops,  handsomely  fitted 
up ;  as  may  well  be,  for  they  drive  an  excellent  trade.  I 
myself  got  rid  of  fifty  good  crowns  in  this  way,  while  I  was 
there.  The  priests,  the  churchmen,  and  the  college  of 
Jesuits,  all  live  together  in  a  large  modern  palace,  where  also 
the  governor  resides,  himself  a  churchman,  who  has  the 
ordering  of  all  things  here,  subject  to  the  authority  of  the 
legate  and  the  pope. 

The  place  of  devotion  is  a  small  brick  house,  very  old  and 
very  mean,  much  longer  than  it  is  broad.  At  the  head  of 
this  is  a  projection,  the  two  sides  of  which  are  iron  doors,  the 
front  consisting  of  a  thick  iron  grating ;  the  whole  affair  is 
exceedingly  coarse  and  antiquated,  without  the  slightest 
appearance  of  wealth  about  it.  This  iron  grating  reaches 
across  from  one  door  to  the  other,  and  through  it  you  can  see 
to  the  end  of  the  building,  where  stands  the  shrine,  which 
occupies  about  a  fifth  part  of  the  space,  and  is  the  principal 
object  with  the  pious  visitors.  Here,  against  the  upper  part 
of  the  wall,  is  to  be  seen  the  image  of  Our  Lady,  made,  they 
say,  of  wood  ;  all  the  rest  of  the  shrine  is  so  covered  with 
magnificent  ex-votos,  the  offerings  of  princes  and  their  subjects 
in  all  parts  of  Christendom,  that  there  is  hardly  an  inch  of 
wall  discernible,  hardly  a  spot  that  does  not  glitter  with  gold 
and  silver  and  precious  stones.  It  was  with  the  utmost 
difficulty,  as  a  very  great  favour,  that  I  obtained  therein  a 
vacant  place,  large  enough  to  receive  a  small  frame,  in  which 
were  fixed  four  silver  figures  :  that  of  Our  Lady,  my  own,  that 
of  my  wife,  and  that  of  my  daughter.  At  the  foot  of  mine 
there  is  engraved  in  silver :  Michael  Mofifanus,  Gallus  Vesco, 
Eques  Regii  ordinis  1581  ;  at  the  foot  of  my  wife's  :  Francisca 
Cassaniana  uxor;  and  at  that  of  my  daughter:  Leonora 
Montana  filia  zmica ;  the  figure  of  Our  Lady  is  in  the  front, 
and  the  three  others  are  kneeling  side  by  side,  before  her.^ 
— Montaigne. 

1  Addison  gives  us  a  landscape  which  deserves  quotation  :  "  Our  whole 
journey  from  Loretto  to  Rome,  was  very  agreeably  relieved  by  the  variety 
of  scenes  we  passed  through.     For  not  to  mention  the  rude  prospect  of 


VENICE   AND  TOWNS   OF   THE   ADRIATIC     199 


ANCONA 

Ancona  ...  is  the  principal  town  of  the  Marches;  .  .  . 
it  has  a  large  population,  a  considerable  portion  of  whom  are 
Greeks,  Turks,  and  Sclavonians,  for  the  place  carries  on  a 
good  trade.  The  town  is  well  built,  and  is  flanked  by  two 
eminences,  which  run  down  into  the  sea.  On  one  of  these, 
by  which  we  entered,  there  is  a  large  fort,  and  on  the  other  a 
church.  The  town  is  seated  partly  on  the  slopes  of  these  two 
hills ;  but  the  principal  portion  is  in  the  valley  between  them, 
and  along  the  sea-side.  There  is  a  good  port  here,  where 
may  still  be  seen  a  fine  arch,  erected  in  honour  of  the 
Emperor  Trajan,  his  wife  and  his  sister.  .  .  .  The  country 
abounds  in  excellent  setters,  which  may  be  had  for  about  six 
crowns  each.  There  is  an  amazing  number  of  quails  caught 
here,  but  they  are  very  poor.  .  .  .  We  learnt  that  the  quails 
came  over  here  in  large  flocks  from  Sclavonia,  and  that  every 
night  they  are  caught  in  nets  on  the  sea-shore,  by  men  who 
allure  them  in  their  flight  by  imitating  the  quail's  note.  .  .  . 

In  the  night,  I  heard  the  report  of  a  cannon,  as  far  off  as 
from  the  Abruzzi,  in  the  kingdom  of  Naples,  and  beyond  that 
city.  Every  league  along  the  coast  there  is  a  tower ;  the  first 
of  these  that  discovers  a  corsair  at  sea,  by  firing  a  gun,  gives  a 
signal  to  the  next  tower,  and  so  on,  and  in  this  way  the  alarm 
spreads  with  such  rapidity  that  in  one  hour's  time,  it  reaches 
from  the  other  end  of  Italy  to  Venice. — Montaigne. 

The  Mole 

The  Romans,  aware  of  the  advantages  of  this  port,  made 
it  their  principal  naval  station  in  the  Adriatic,  built  a  mag- 
nificent mole  to  cover  the  harbour,  and  adorned  it  with  a 
triumphal  arch.     This  useful  and   splendid  work  was  under- 

rocks  rising  one  above  another,  of  the  gutters  deep-worn  in  the  sides  of 
them  by  torrents  of  rain  and  snow-water,  or  the  long  channels  of  sand 
winding  about  their  bottoms,  that  are  sometimes  filled  with  so  many 
rivers ;  we  saw,  in  six  days'  travelling,  the  several  seasons  of  the  year  in 
their  beauty  and  perfection.  We  were  sometimes  shivering  on  the  top  of 
a  bleak  mountain,  and  a  little  while  after  basking  in  a  warm  valley, 
covered  with  violets  and  almond-trees  in  blossom,  the  bees  already  swarm- 
ing over  them,  though  but  in  the  month  of  February.  Sometimes  our 
road  led  us  through  groves  of  olives,  or  by  gardens  of  oranges,  or  into 
several  hollow  apartments  among  the  rocks  and  mountains,  that  look  like 
so  many  natural  green-houses ;  as  being  always  shaded  with  a  great  variety 
of  trees  and  shrubs  that  never  lose  their  verdure." 


200  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

taken  and  finished  by  Trajan,  and  to  him  the  triumphal  arch 
is  dedicated.  It  is  still  entire,  though  stripped  of  its  metal 
ornaments  ;  the  order  is  Corinthian  ;  the  materials,  Parian 
marble ;  the  form  light,  and  the  whole  is  considered  as  the 
best,  though  not  the  most  splendid,  nor  the  most  massive 
model,  that  remains  of  similar  edifices.  It  was  ornamented 
with  statues,  busts,  and  probably  inferior  decorations  of 
bronze  ;  but  of  these,  as  I  hinted  above,  it  has  been  long  since 
stripped  by  the  avarice  of  barbarian  invaders,  or  perhaps  of 
ignorant  and  degenerate  Italians.  From  the  first  taking  of 
Rome  by  Alaric,  that  is  from  the  total  fall  of  the  arts  to  their 
restoration,  it  was  certain  ruin  to  an  ancient  edifice  to  retain, 
or  to  be  supposed  to  retain,  any  ornament,  or  even  any  stay  of 
metal.  Not  the  internal  decorations  only  were  torn  off,  but 
the  very  nails  pulled  out,  and  not  unfrequently  stones  dis- 
placed, and  columns  overturned,  to  seek  for  bronze  or  iron. — 
Eustace. 

The  Cathedral 

.  .  .  The  Cathedral  ...  is  unquestionably,  as  far  as  my 
experience  goes,  the  most  finely  situated  church  in  Europe. 
A  part  of  the  mass  of  Monte  Conero  .  .  .  juts  out  into  the 
sea,  before  receding  so  as  to  leave  space  for  the  town,  and  thus 
forms  the  ancona  which  has  given  the  place  its  name,  and  the 
harbour  which  gives  it  its  value.  On  the  topmost  headland  of 
this  jutting  promontory,  which  protrudes  from  the  coast-line, 
with  an  inclination  towards  the  north,  far  enough  out  into  the 
sea  to  be  washed  at  its  base  on  both  sides,  and  to  command  a 
twofold  sea  view  from  its  summit,  the  Cathedral  stands  on  the 
spot  where  stood  the 

Domus  Veneris  quam  Dorica  sustinet  Ancon 
of  Juvenal's  Fourth  Satire.— r.  A.  Trollope. 


THE    LAKES,  MILAN,    AND    TOWNS 
TO    BOLOGNA 

THE  APPROACH  FROM  THE  SIMPLON 

.  .  .  The  character  of  the  rnountains,  which  we  should  expect 
to  become  more  smihng  and  soft  as  we  come  towards  Italy, 
takes,  on  the  contrary,  an  extraordinary  barbarity  and  harsh- 
ness. .  .  .  The  descents  become  steeper  and  steeper ;  the 
valley  in  which  the  road  winds  is  strangled  in  the  gorges  ;  the 
mountains  on  either  side  are  scarped  in  a  terrible  way  ;  the 
rocks  are  sheer  to  perpendicularity,  or  seem  ready  to  topple 
over ;  their  cleavage,  with  the  clear  marks  of  blasting,  shews 
that  they  have  only  made  way  after  fierce  resistance,  and  only 
at  the  cost  of  not  a  little  powder  to  get  the  better  of  them. 
The  colouring  grows  brown,  and  the  light  painfully  filters 
down  the  narrow  cuttings  ;  patches  of  a  sombre  green,  which 
are  really  pine-forests,  spot  the  dun  rocks  and  give  them  a 
tigrish  aspect.  The  torrents  become  cascades,  and  at  the 
bottom  of  a  gigantic  fissure,  which  looks  like  the  hatchet 
stroke  of  a  Titan,  there  scolds  and  foams  the  Doveria,  a  sort 
of  raging  river,  which  does  not  roll  water  only,  but  blocks  of 
granite,  enormous  stones,  caked  earth,  and  white  smoke.  Its 
bed  is  far  larger  than  its  stream,  and  it  rushes  and  convul- 
sively twists  itself,  looking  like  a  street  of  cyclopsan  walls 
after  an  earthquake.  It  is  a  chaos  of  rocks,  marble  slabs,  and 
fragments  of  marble  looking  almost  like  keystones,  door  posts, 
shavings  of  columns,  and  corners  of  walls.  In  other  places 
whitened  stones  seem  to  make  a  charnel  house  like  the  graves 
of  mastodons  and  antediluvian  animals  laid  bare  by  a  water- 
course. It  is  everywhere  ruin,  ravage,  desolation,  and  a 
menace  of  peril.  ... 

This  Doveria,  furious  and  raging  as  it  is,  has  still  been  of 
service ;  without  it  man  could  not  have  cloven  these  colossal 
masses.     Its  waters  have  conquered  opposition  and  prepared 


202  THE  BOOK   OF  ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

a  way  for  the  engineer.  Its  course  is  a  rough  tracing  of  the 
road  ;  torrent  and  road  nudge  each  other,  sometimes  the 
road  borrows  from  the  torrent,  sometimes  the  torrent  from  the 
road.  Sometimes  the  sohd  rock  shews  an  enormous  rampart, 
which  can  be  neither  scaled  nor  gone  round  ;  then  a  gallery- 
cut  through  it  with  chisel  and  blasting  powder  solves  the 
difficulty.  The  Gondo  gallery,  cut  with  two  openings,  which 
would  make  an  admirable  underground  scene  in  a  melodrama, 
is  one  of  the  longest  after  the  Algaby,  which  is  220  feet  in 
length.  It  bears  at  one  entrance  the  brief  but  noble  inscrip- 
tion :  .-iere  Italo,  1795,^  Nap.  imp.  Not  far  from  this  spot, 
the  Frasinone  and  two  other  torrents  emerging  from  the 
glaciers  of  the  Rosboden  hurl  themselves  down  into  the  abyss 
with  terrifying  roar  and  fury.  The  road  follows  an  escarpment 
over  the  gulf.  The  rock-walls  come  closer  and  closer,  rough, 
black,  bristling,  gleaming,  and  out  of  balance,  only  shewing 
the  sky  between  their  summits  two  thousand  feet  above.  .  .  . 
After  crossing  the  most  perilous  bridges,  and  prodigious 
tunnelings, — for  there  is  one  where  all  the  weight  of  the 
mountain  is  on  a  pile  of  masonry — we  come  to  a  region  that  is 
slightly  less  penned  in.  The  valley  opens  out,  the  Doveria 
spreads  out  with  more  ease,  the  clouds  and  gathered  mists 
break  into  light  wool.  The  light  is  less  hoarded  by  the  sky  ; 
the  icy  cold  grey-green  tint  which  marks  the  terrors  of  the 
Alps,  becomes  somewhat  warmer.  A  few  houses  have  the 
courage  to  shew  their  heads  through  the  clumps  of  trees  on 
the  less  hazardous  slopes,  and  we  presently  reach  Isella. — 
Theophih  Gautier. 

THE     LAKES 

Lago  di  Como 

Since  I  last  wrote  to  you  we  have  been  to  Como,  looking 
for  a  house.  This  lake  exceeds  any  thing  I  ever  beheld  in 
beauty,  with  the  exception  of  the  arbutus  islands  of  Killarney. 
It  is  long  and  narrow,  and  has  the  appearance  of  a  mighty 
river  winding  among  the  mountains  and  the  forests.  We 
sailed  from  the  town  of  Como  to  a  tract  of  country  called  the 
Tremezina,  and  saw  the  various  aspects  presented  by  that  part 
of  the  lake.  The  mountains  between  Como  and  that  village, 
or  rather  cluster  of  villages,  are  covered  on  high  with  chestnut 

'  Is  Gautier  quite  right  in  his  date  ? 


LAKES,   MILAN,   TOWNS  TO   BOLOGNA      203 

forests  (the  eating  chestnuts,  on  which  the  inhabitants  of  the 
country  subsist  in  time  of  scarcity),  which  sometimes  descend 
to  the  very  verge  of  the  lake,  overhanging  it  with  their  hoary 
branches.  But  usually  the  immediate  border  of  this  shore  is 
composed  of  laurel-trees,  and  bay,  and  myrtle,  and  wild  fig- 
trees,  and  olives  which  grow  in  the  crevices  of  the  rocks,  and 
overhang  the  caverns,  and  shadow  the  deep  glens,  which  are 
filled  with  the  flashing  light  of  the  waterfalls.  Other  flowering 
shrubs,  which  I  cannot  name,  grow  there  also.  On  high,  the 
towers  of  village  churches  are  seen  white  among  the  dark 
forests.  Beyond,  on  the  opposite  shore,  which  faces  the 
south,  the  mountains  descend  less  precipitously  to  the  lake, 
and  although  they  are  much  higher,  and  some  covered  with 
perpetual  snow,  there  intervenes  between  them  and  the  lake  a 
range  of  lower  hills,  which  have  glens  and  rifts  opening  to  the 
other,  such  as  I  should  fancy  the  abysses  of  Ida  or  Parnassus. 
Here  are  plantations  of  olive,  and  orange,  and  lemon  trees, 
which  are  now  so  loaded  with  fruit,  that  there  is  more  fruit 
than  leaves — and  vineyards.  This  shore  of  the  lake  is  one 
continued  village,  and  the  Milanese  nobility  have  their  villas 
here.  The  union  of  culture  and  the  untameable  profusion 
and  loveliness  of  nature  is  here  so  close,  that  the  line  where 
they  are  divided  can  hardly  be  discovered.  But  the  finest 
scenery  is  that  of  the  Villa  Pliniana;  so  called  from  a  fountain 
which  ebbs  and  flows  every  three  hours,  described  by  the 
younger  Pliny,  which  is  in  the  court-yard.  This  house,  which 
was  once  a  magnificent  palace,  and  is  now  half  in  ruins,  we 
are  endeavouring  to  procure.  It  is  built  upon  terraces  raised 
from  the  bottom  of  the  lake,  together  with  its  garden,  at  the 
foot  of  a  semicircular  precipice,  overshadowed  by  profound 
forests  of  chestnut.  Ihe  scene  from  the  colonnade  is  the 
most  extraordinary,  at  once,  and  the  most  lovely  that  eye  ever 
beheld.  On  one  side  is  the  mountain,  and  immediately  over 
you  are  clusters  of  cypress-trees  of  an  astonishing  height, 
which  seem  to  pierce  the  sky.  Above  you,  from  among  the 
cloudsj  as  it  were,  descends  a  waterfall  of  immense  size, 
broken  by  the  woody  rocks  into  a  thousand  channels  to  the 
lake.  On  the  other  side  is  seen  the  blue  extent  of  the  lake 
and  the  mountains,  speckled  with  sails  and  spires.  The 
apartments  of  the  Pliniana  are  immensely  large,  but  ill 
furnished  and  antique.  The  terraces,  which  overlook  the  lake, 
and  conduct  under  the  shade  of  such  immense  laurel-trees  as 
deserve  the  epithet  of  Pythian,  are  most  delightful. — Shelley. 


204  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


Lago  Maggiore 

If  I  had  my  choice  of  a  country  house,  I  would  choose  one 
here.  From  topmost  Varese,  where  the  road  begins  to  fall,  a 
broad  plain  with  low  hills  is  seen.  The  expanse  is  clothed 
with  verdure  and  with  trees,  with  fields  and  meadows  starred 
with  white  and  yellow  flowers  like  a  velvet  Venetian  dress, 
with  mulberry-trees  and  vines.  Further  on  are  bouquets  of 
oaks  and  poplars,  and  scattered  among  the  hills,  beautiful 
placid  lakes,  with  broad  waters  of  one  tone,  shining  like  mir- 
rors of  steel.  It  has  the  gentleness  of  an  English  landscape, 
the  noble  composition  of  a  picture  by  Claude  Lorraine.  The 
mountains  and  the  sky  give  majesty,  the  expansive  waters  give 
a  flowing  grace.  Two  kinds  of  landscape,  those  of  north  and 
south,  here  meet  in  a  pleasant  friendship,  and  give  the  softness 
of  a  grassy  park  with  the  grandeur  of  an  amphitheatre  of  high 
rocks.  The  lake  itself  is  far  more  varied  than  that  of  Como  : 
it  is  not  shut  in  from  end  to  end  by  abrupt  bare  hills  ;  if  it 
lies  beneath  harsh  mountains,  it  has  also  smiling  slopes,  a  cloak 
of  forest  trees,  and  the  perspective  of  the  plain.  From  Laveno 
we  see  its  broad  motionless  surface,  burnished  here  and  there 
and  damascened  like  a  corslet  by  numberless  scales  under 
the  blaze  of  the  sun  breaking  through  the  domed  clouds. 
The  faint  breeze  hardly  brings  a  dying  ripple  against  the 
pebbles  of  the  shores.  Eastward,  a  path  winds  half  up  the 
bank  among  green  hedges,  blossoming  fig-trees,  and  spring 
flowers  with  every  kind  of  sweet  scent.  .  .  .  Further  and  yet 
further  along,  the  tree-girt  mountains  slope  to  the  water's  edge, 
and  lift  their  cones  and  misty  peaks,  lost  in  the  grey  clouds. 

At  sunrise  we  took  a  boat  and  crossed  the  lake  in  the 
diaphanous  mist  of  dawn  ;  the  surface  is  as  broad  as  some 
sea-bays,  and  the  little  waves  of  leaden  blue  shine  faintly. 
The  grey  vapour  covers  the  sky  and  water  with  its  monotone ; 
but  it  fades  gradually  and  disappears,  while  through  its  break- 
ing meshes  come  the  lovely  light  and  gentle  warmth  of  day. 
We  glide  thus  for  a  couple  of  hours  in  the  unchanging  balmy 
twilight  of  early  dawn,  touched  by  the  breeze  as  -by  the  gentle 
shock  of  air  from  a  feather-fan.  Then  the  sky  clears,  and 
only  blue  and  brightness  are  above  us ;  the  water  around 
is  like  a  broad  piece  of  wrinkled  velvet,  the  sky  like  a  glowing 
sapphire  shell.  But  a  white  spot  appears,  grows  and  becomes 
a  reality  :  it  is  Isola-Madre,  wrapped  in  its  terraces,  with  the 


LAKES,    MILAN,    TOWNS   TO    BOLOGNA      205 

waves  beating  against  its  great  blue  flags  and  powdering  its 
lustrous  leaves  with  moisture.  We  land  ;  on  the  side  of  the 
ledge  are  aloes  with  their  massive  leaves  and  Indian  figs  sun- 
ning their  tropical  fruit.  Alleys  of  lemon  trees  run  by  the 
walls,  and  their  green  or  yellow  fruit  clings  close  to  the  inter- 
stices of  the  rocks.  With  this  wealth  of  beautiful  plants,  four 
terraces  rise  one  by  one  ;  on  the  plateau  of  the  isle  is  a  band  of 
green  throwing  over  the  banks  its  masses  of  leaves,  laurels, 
evergreens,  plane-trees,  pomegranates,  exotics,  glycines,  and 
full-bloomed  clusters  of  azalea.  We  walk  amid  coolness  and 
perfumes.  .  .  .  All  carpeted  with  delicate  grass  and  grown 
with  flowering  trees,  the  island  is  a  fair  garland  of  pink,  blue, 
and  violet  flowers  picked  at  morning  time,  and  with  butterflies 
hovering  round  it.  Its  immaculate  lawns  are  constellated 
with  primroses  and  anemones ;  peacocks  and  pheasants  walk 
peacefully,  carrying  their  brilliant  tails  eyed  with  gold  and 
painted  with  purple,  the  uncontested  monarchs  of  a  kingdom 
of  little  birds  twittering  and  talking  among  themselves. 

I  had  no  wish  to  consider  formal  architecture,  and  cer- 
tainly not  artificial  decoration,  and  least  of  all  the  artificial 
decoration  and  perversion  of  recent  centuries.  The  ten  vaulted 
terraces  of  Isola-Bella,  with  their  grottoes  of  rock-work  and 
mosaic,  their  chambers  covered  with  pictures  and  filled  with 
bric-a-brac,  its  basins  of  water,  and  its  fountains  seemed  un- 
sightly to  me  and  did  not  move  me.  I  preferred  to  look 
at  the  western  shore  facing  us,  scarped  and  wholly  green,  and  a 
natural  delight  to  the  eye.  The  lofty  and  peaceful  mountains 
rise  up  in  their  splendour,  and  we  long  to  go  and  sit  on  their 
lawns.  Sloping  meadows  of  wonderful  green  clothe  the  first 
slopes ;  narcissus,  euphorbia,  and  flowers  empurpled  abound 
in  the  hollows ;  clusters  of  myosotis  open  their  small  blue 
eyes,  and  their  heads  tremble  in  the  spray  of  the  springs. 
Myriads  of  rills  glance  on  the  hillside,  running  and  tumbling 
over  each  other ;  tiny  cascades  strew  showers  of  pearls  on  the 
grass,  while  diamond  brooks  catch  up  their  lost  waters  and 
hurry  to  pour  them  into  the  lake.  Here  and  there  amid  the 
happy  murmur  and  the  beauty  of  it  all,  the  oaks  shew  their 
lustrous  new  leaves  and  climb  from  height  to  height  till  they 
cut  the  sky  with  an  unbroken  line. — Taine. 


2o6  THE   BOOK   OF  ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


Lago  di  Lugano 

This  lake  is  twenty-five  miles  in  length,  in  breadth  from 
three  to  six,  and  of  immense  depth;  indeed,  in  some  places 
it  is  said  to  be  almost  unfathomable.  Its  former  name  was 
Ceresius  Lacus  (the  Ceresian  Lake) ;  but  whether  known  to 
the  ancients,  or  produced,  as  some  have  imagined,  by  a  sudden 
convulsion  in  the  fifth  or  sixth  century,  has  not  yet  been  ascer- 
tained. The  banks  are  formed  by  the  sides  of  two  mountains, 
so  steep  as  to  afford  little  room  for  villages  or  even  cottages, 
and  so  high,  as  to  cast  a  blackening  shade  over  the  surface  of 
the  waters.  Their  rocky  bases  are  oftentimes  so  perpendi- 
cular, and  descend  so  rapidly  into  the  gulf  below,  without 
shelving  or  gradation,  as  not  to  allow  shelter  for  a  boat,  or 
even  footing  for  a  human  being.  Hence,  although  covered 
with  wood  hanging  in  vast  masses  of  verdure  from  the  preci- 
pices, and  although  bold  and  magnificent  in  the  highest  degree 
from  their  bulk  and  elevation,  yet  they  inspire  sensations  of 
awe  rather  than  of  pleasure.  The  traveller  feels  a  sort  of 
terror  as  he  glides  under  them,  and  dreads  lest  the  rocks 
should  close  over  him,  or  some  fragment  descend  from  the 
crag,  and  bury  him  in  the  abyss. 

To  this  general  description  there  are  several  exceptions, 
and  in  particular  with  reference  to  that  part  which,  expanding 
westward,  forms  the  bay  of  Lugano.  The  banks  here  slope 
off  gently  towards  the  south  and  west,  presenting  fine  hills, 
fields,  and  villas,  with  the  town  itself  in  the  centre,  consisting 
in  appearance  of  several  noble  lines  of  buildings.  On  the 
craggy  top  of  the  promontory  on  one  side  of  this  bay  stands 
a  castle  ;  the  towering  summit  of  the  opposite  cape  opens 
into  green  downs  striped  with  forests,  bearing  a  strong  resem- 
blance in  scenery  and  elevation  to  the  heights  of  Vallombrosa. 
— Eustace. 

Lago  di  Garda  (Sirmione) 

The  peninsula  of  Sirmione,  and  the  bolder  promontory  of 
Minerbo,  the  former  about  seven,  the  latter  about  fourteen 
miles  distant,  appeared  to  great  advantage  from  Peschiera, 
and  grew  upon  the  sight  as  we  advanced.  Sirmione  appears 
as  an  island ;  so  low  and  so  narrow  is  the  bank  that  unites  it 
to  the  mainland.     Its  entrance  is  defended,  and  indeed  totally 


LAKES,    MILAN,   TOWNS   TO   BOLOGNA      207 

covered  by  an  old  castle,  with  its  battlements  and  high  antique 
tower  in  the  centre,  in  the  form  of  a  Gothic  fortification. 

The  promontory  spreads  behind  the  town,  and  rises  into  a 
hill  entirely  covered  with  olives  :  this  hill  may  be  said  to  have 
two  summits,  as  there  is  a  gentle  descent  between  them.  On 
the  nearest  is  a  church  and  hermitage,  plundered  by  the 
French,  and  now  uninhabited  and  neglected.  On  the  farthest, 
in  the  midst  of  an  olive  grove,  stand  the  walls  of  an  old  build- 
ing, said  to  be  a  Roman  bath  ;  and  near  it  is  a  vault,  called 
the  grotto  of  Catullus.  The  extremity  of  this  promontory  is 
covered  with  arched  ways,  towers,  and  subterranean  passages, 
supposed  by  the  inhabitants  to  be  Roman,  but  apparently  of 
no  very  distant  era.  At  all  events,  Catullus  undoubtedly 
inhabited  this  spot,  and  preferred  it,  at  a  certain  period,  to 
every  other  region.  He  has  expressed  his  attachment  to  it  in 
some  beautiful  lines.^ 

Peninsularum  Sirmio,  insularumque 
Ocelle,  quascunque  in  liquentibus  stagnis 
Marique  vasto  fert  uterque  Neptunus. 

He  could  not  have  chosen  a  more  delightful  retreat.  In 
the  centre  of  a  magnificent  lake,  surrounded  with  scenery  of 
the  greatest  variety  and  majesty,  secluded  from  the  world,  yet 
beholding  from  his  garden  the  villas  of  his  Veronese  friends, 
he  might  have  enjoyed  alternately  the  pleasures  of  retirement 
and  of  society. — Eustace. 


The  Italian  Lakes  Compared 

To  which  of  the  Italian  Lakes  should  the  palm  of  beauty 
be  accorded  ?  This  question  may  not  unfrequently  have 
moved  the  idle  thoughts  of  travellers,  wandering  through  that 
loveliest  region  from  Orta  to  Garda — from  little  Orta,  with 
her  gem-like  island,  rosy  granite  crags,  and  chestnut-covered 
swards  above  the  Colna ;  to  Garda,  bluest  of  all  waters,  sur- 
veyed in  majestic  length  from  Desenzano  or  poetic  Sirmione, 
a  silvery  sleeping  haze  of  hill  and  cloud  and  heaven  and 
clear  waves  bathed  in  modulated  azure.  And  between  these 
extreme  points  what  varied  lovelinesses  He  in  broad  Maggiore, 
winding  Como,  Varese  with  the  laughing  face  upturned  to 
heaven,  Lugano  overshadowed  by  the  crested  crags  of  Monte 

^  Catullus  had  been  gold-digging  in  Bithynia,  with  little  or  no  success. 


2oS  THE    ROOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Generoso,  and  Iseo  far  withdrawn  among  the  rocky  Alps ! 
He  who  loves  immense  space,  cloud  shadows  slowly  sailing 
over  purple  slopes,  island  gardens,  distant  glimpses  of  snow- 
capped mountains,  breadth,  air,  immensity,  and  flooding  sun- 
light, will  choose  Maggiore.  But  scarcely  has  he  cast  his  vote 
for  this,  the  Juno  of  the  divine  rivals,  when  he  remembers  the 
triple  loveliness  of  the  Larian  Aphrodite,  disclosed  in  all  their 
placid  grace  from  Villa  Serbelloni ; — the  green  blue  of  the 
waters,  clear  as  glass,  opaque  through  depth ;  the  7tiillefleurs 
roses  clambering  into  cypresses  by  Cadenabbia ;  the  labur- 
nums hanging  their  yellow  clusters  from  the  clefts  of  Sasso 
Rancio ;  the  oleander  arcades  of  Varenna ;  the  wild  white 
limestone  crags  of  San  Martino,  which  he  has  climbed  to  feast 
his  eyes  with  the  perspective,  magical,  serene,  Lionardesquely 
perfect,  of  the  distant  gates  of  Adda.  Then,  while  this 
modern  Paris  is  still  doubting,  perhaps  a  thought  may  cross 
his  mind  of  sterner,  solitary  Lake  Iseo — the  Pallas  of  the  three. 
She  offers  her  own  attractions.  The  sublimity  of  Monte 
Adamello,  dominating  Lovere  and  all  the  lowland-like  Hesiod's 
hill  of  Virtues  reared  aloft  above  the  plain  of  common  life,  has 
charms  to  tempt  heroic  lovers.  Nor  can  Varese  be  neglected. 
In  some  picturesque  respects,  Varese  is  the  most  perfect  of 
the  lakes.  These  long  lines  of  swelling  hills  that  lead  into 
the  level,  yield  an  infinite  series  of  placid  foregrounds,  pleasant 
to  the  eye  by  contrast  with  the  dominant  snow-summits  from 
Monte  Viso  to  Monte  Leone :  the  sky  is  limitless  to  south- 
ward ;  the  low  horizons  are  broken  by  bell-towers  and  farm- 
houses ;  while  armaments  of  clouds  are  rolling  in  the  interval 
of  Alps  and  plain.— y.  A.  Synwnds. 

COMO  {The  Town) 

The  city  of  Como,  at  two  stages  distance  from  Milan,  is 
one  of  the  smallest  but  most  ancient  capitals  of  Lombardy. 
It  forms  a  semi-circle  at  the  head  of  its  lake,  and  reposes  at 
the  foot  of  an  abrupt  height,  crowned  with  the  remains  of  the 
feudal  castle  of  Baradello.  The  romantic  fauxbourgs  of  San 
Agostino  and  Borgo  Vico  stretch  to  the  right  and  left  of  the 
lake.  Hills  of  every  form  and  culture  swell  around,  as  if 
thrown  up  by  a  volcanic  explosion;  and  the  torrent  of  the 
Cosia,  leaping  from  its  mountain-head,  falls  into  the  little 
plain  of  willows,  which  separates  the  town  from  the  mountains 
of  St.  Fermo  and  Lampino.     But  prominent  in  the  landscape, 


LAKES,    MILAN,    TOWNS   TO    BOLOGNA      209 

and  (whether  bronzed  by  sunset,  or  silenced  by  moonbeams) 
conspicuous  in  picturesque  effect,  rise  the  ruins  of  Baradello, 
once  the  scene  of  a  tragic  tale.  .  .  .  [From  the  walls  of  this 
mountain-fortress,  so  important  in  the  thirteenth  century,  was 
suspended  a  cage.  In  this  cage,  in  the  year  1277,  exposed  to 
all  the  inclemency  of  the  stormy  region,  was  imprisoned,  and 
perished,  the  famous  feudal  chief  Torriani,  once  lord  of  the 
domains  of  Como  and  of  the  Milanese,  the  victim  of  the 
vengeance  of  his  rival  and  conqueror,  Sforza.^] 

The  interior  of  the  town  of  Como  exhibits  dark,  narrow, 
and  filthy  streets  ;  churches  numerous,  old  and  tawdry  ;  some 
dreary  palaces  of  the  Comasque  nobles,  and  dismantled  dwell- 
ings of  the  Cittadini.  The  cathedral,  or  Duomo,  is  its  great 
feature  ;  founded  in  1396,  and  constructed  with  marbles  from 
the  neighbouring  quarries.  It  stands  happily  with  respect  to 
the  lake,  but  is  surrounded  by  a  small  square  of  low  and 
mouldering  arcades  and  pretty  little  shops.  Its  baptistery  is 
ascribed  to  Bramante,  but  the  architecture  is  so  mixed  and 
semi-barbarous,  that  it  recalls  the  period  when  the  arts  began 
to  revive  in  all  the  fantastic  caprice  of  unsettled  taste.  Every- 
where the  elegant  Gothic  is  mingled  with  the  grotesque  forms 
of  ruder  orders ;  and  basso-relievos  of  monsters  and  non- 
descripts disfigure  a  fagade,  whose  light  Gothic  pinnacles  are 
surmounted  with  golden  crosses ;  while  the  fine  pointed  arch 
and  clustered  column  contrast  with  staring  saints  and  grinning 
griffins.  Upon  the  walls  of  this  most  Christian  church  are 
inserted  inscriptions,  and  other  monuments  to  the  memory 
and  honour  of  the  heathen  Plinies;  and  the  statue  of  the 
youngest  of  these  distinguished  philosophers  forms  a  pendant 
on  the  principal  front  of  the  cathedral,  to  a  saint. — Lady 
Morgan. 

BERGAMO 

From  the  new  town  of  commerce  to  the  old  town  of 
history  upon  the  hill,  the  road  is  carried  along  a  rampart 
lined  with  horse-chestnut  trees — clumps  of  massy  foliage, 
and  snowy  pyramids  of  bloom,  expanded  in  the  rapture  of 
a  southern  spring.  ...  A  sudden  angle  in  the  road  is 
turned,  and  we  pass  from  air-space  and  freedom  into  the 
old  town,  beneath  walls  of  dark  brown  masonry,  where  wild 
valerians  light  their  torches  of  red  bloom  in  immemorial 
shade.  Squalor  and  splendour  live  here  side  by  side. 
^  Lady  Morgan's  note. 

O 


2IO  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Grand  Renaissance  portals  grinning  with  Satyr  masks  are 
flanked  by  tawdry  frescoes  shamming  stone-work,  or  by  door- 
ways where  the  withered  bush  hangs  out  a  promise  of  bad 
wine. 

The  Cappella  Colleoni  is  our  destination,  that  master- 
piece of  the  sculptor-architect's  craft,  with  its  variegated 
marbles — rosy  and  white  and  creamy  yellow  and  jet-black — 
in  patterns,  bas-reliefs,  pilasters,  statuettes,  encrusted  on  the 
fanciful  domed  shrine.  Upon  the  fat^ade  are  mingled,  in 
the  true  Renaissance  spirit  of  genial  acceptance,  motives 
Christian  and  Pagan  with  supreme  impartiality.  Medallions 
of  emperors  and  gods  alternate  with  virtues,  angels  and 
cupids  in  a  maze  of  loveliest  arabesque ;  and  round  the 
base  of  the  building  are  told  two  stories — the  one  of  Adam 
from  his  creation  to  his  fall,  the  other  of  Hercules  and  his 
labours.  .  .  .  This  chapel  was  built  by  the  great  Condottiere 
Bartolomeo  Colleoni,  to  be  the  monument  of  his  puissance 
even  to  the  grave.— y.  A.  Sy?nonds. 

MONZA 

Recent  travellers  have  spoken  so  lightly  of  having  gone 
to  Monza  "  to  see  the  iron  crown,"  that  we  conceived  the 
visit  a  thing  of  course,  open  to  all  strangers  in  the  common 
routine  of  sights.  We  found,  on  the  contrary,  that  to  obtain 
permission  to  inspect  this  relic,  was  a  matter  of  interest  and 
of  time.  .  .  .  The  order  was  signed  by  the  Grand  Duke 
and  countersigned  by  the  Governor  of  Milan ;  and  it  was 
dispatched  the  night  before  our  visit  to  the  chapter  of 
Monza. 

We  found  Monza  dreary  and  silent ;  and  its  great  square 
in  front  of  the  cathedral,  grown  with  grass,  marked  how 
much  the  shrine  of  the  saintly  and  royal  Theodolinda,  the 
famed  and  most  popular  of  Lombard  queens,  was  now 
neglected  by  the  descendants  of  her  ancient  subjects.  The 
Duomo,  externally  Gothic  and  venerable,  is  within  still  more 
impressive  and  antiquated.  The  relics  of  the  barbarous 
taste  of  the  bassi  tempi  were  visible  in  the  sculpture,  tracery, 
carving,  and  frescoes  which  covered  the  walls,  pillars,  altars, 
and  shrines  of  this  most  memorable  edifice. 

We  were  received  at  our  entrance  by  some  of  the  chapter, 
appointed  to  do  the  honours  by  the  archducal  mandate. 
The  canon  who  conducted  us,  having  left  us  in  the  church, 


LAKES,   MILAN,   TOWNS   TO   BOLOGNA      211 

retired  to  robe  for  the  ceremony,  and  returned  in  grand 
ponticalibus,  preceded  by  a  priest  in  a  white  torch,  and 
some  chorici  in  their  white  short  surphces.  This  Httle  proces- 
sion, as  it  issued  from  the  aisles,  seemed  a  living  illustration 
of  some  of  the  surrounding  basso-relievos,  particularly  one 
where  an  archbishop  of  Monza  carries  the  crown  to  the 
second  husband  of  Queen  Theodolinda.  When  they  arrived 
before  the  shrine  of  the  Iron  Crown,  which  is  contained  in 
a  gigantic  cross  suspended  over  the  altar,  the  priests  fell 
prostrate ;  the  sacristan  placed  a  ladder  against  the  cross ; 
ascended,  opened  the  shrine,  and  displayed  the  treasure  in 
the  blaze  of  the  torch-light;  the  priest  below  filled  the  air 
with  volumes  of  odorous  vapour,  flung  from  silver  censers  ; 
and  nothing  was  visible  but  the  blazing  jewels,  illuminated 
by  the  torch,  and  the  white  drapery  of  the  sacristan,  who 
seemed  suspended  in  mid  air.  The  effect  was  most  singular. 
At  last  the  incense  dissipated,  and  the  cross  closed,  the 
sacristan  descended,  and  the  canons  shewed  us  a  mock 
crown  in  imitation  of  the  real,  that  we  might  judge  of  the 
details,  and  of  the  size  and  value  of  the  gems.^ — Lady 
Morgan. 

MILAN  2 

We  enter'd  into  the  State  of  Milan,  and  pass'd  by  Lodi, 
a  greate  Citty  famous  for  cheese  little  short  of  the  best  Par- 
meggiano.  We  din'd  at  Marignano,  10  miles  before  coming 
to  Milan,  where  we  met  halfe  a  dozen  suspicious  Cavaliers, 
who  yet  did  us  no  harme.  Then  passing  as  through  a  con- 
tinual garden,  we  went  on  with  exceeding  pleasure,  for  it  is 
the  paradise  of  Lombardy,  the  highways  as  even  and  straite 
as  a  line,  the  fields  to  a  vast  extent  planted  with  fruit  about 

1  Lady  Morgan  describes  (from  the  books  narrating  them)  the  cere- 
monies of  the  procession  which  took  the  iron  crown  to  Milan  for 
Napoleon's  coronation  on  the  25th  May  1805:  "It  was  led  by  a  guard 
of  honour  on  horseback,  a  corps  of  the  Italian  guards  ;  a  carriage  contained 
the  municipality  of  Monza  ;  another  followed  with  the  workmen  employed 
to  remove  the  crown  ;  the  canons,  the  syndic,  and  the  archiprete  of  the 
cathedral  of  Monza  succeeded  ;  and  last,  came  a  carriage  with  the  master 
of  the  ceremonies  of  the  Imperial  Court,  bearing  the  crown  on  a  velvet 
cushion."  Received  at  Milan  with  a  salvo  of  artillery,  it  was  deposited  in 
the  cathedral,  and  "  a  guard  watched  round  it  during  the  night." 

-  Montaigne  thought  Milan  not  unlike  Paris  in  appearance.  Lady 
Morgan  tells  us  that  "French  is  spoken  with  great  purity  by  the  Milanese. 
Their  u  is  like  the  u  of  the  French,  the  great  stumbling-block  of  the 
southern  Italians  in  French  pronunciation." 


212  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  inclosures,  vines  to  every  tree  at  equal  distances,  and 
water'd  with  frequent  streames.  There  was  Hkewise  much 
come,  and  olives  in  aboundance.  At  approch  of  the  Citty 
some  of  our  company,  in  dread  of  the  Inquisition  (severer 
here  than  in  all  Spain),  thought  of  throwing  away  some  Pro- 
testant books  and  papers.  We  ariv'd  about  3  in  the  after- 
noone,  when  the  officers  search'd  us  thoroughly  for  prohibited 
goods,  but  finding  we  were  onely  gentlemen  travellers,  dis- 
miss'd  us  for  a  small  reward,  and  we  went  quietly  to  our  inn, 
the  Three  Kings,  where  for  that  day  we  refreshed  ourselves, 
as  we  had  neede.  The  next  morning  we  delivered  our  letters 
of  recommendation  to  the  learned  and  courteous  Ferrarius, 
a  Doctor  of  the  Ambrosian  College,  who  conducted  us  to  all 
the  remarkable  places  of  the  towne,  the  first  of  which  was  the 
famous  Cathedral.  We  enter'd  it  by  a  portico  so  little  inferior 
to  that  of  Rome,  that  when  it  is  finished  it  will  he  hard  to 
say  which  is  the  fairest ;  the  materials  are  all  of  white  and 
black  marble,  with  columns  of  great  height  of  Egyptian  granite. 
The  outside  of  the  Church  is  so  full  of  sculpture,  that  you 
may  number  4000  statues  all  of  white  marble,  amongst  which 
that  of  St.  Bartholomew  is  esteemed  a  masterpiece.  The 
Church  is  very  spacious,  almost  as  long  as  St.  Peter's  at 
Rome,  but  not  so  large.  About  the  Quire  the  sacred  storie 
is  finely  sculptured  in  snow-white  marble,  nor  know  I  where 
it  is  exceeded.  About  the  body  of  the  Church  are  the  miracles 
of  St.  Char.  Boromeo,  and  in  the  vault  beneath  is  his  body 
before  the  high  altar,  grated,  and  inclos'd  in  one  of  the  largest 
chrystals  in  Europe.  To  this  also  belongs  a  rich  treasure. 
The  cupola  is  all  of  marble  within  and  without,  and  even 
cover'd  with  great  planks  of  marble,  in  the  Gotick  designe. 
The  windows  are  most  beautifully  painted.  Here  are  two 
very  faire  and  excellent  organs.  The  fabriq  is  erected  in  the 
midst  of  a  faire  Piazza,  and  in  the  center  of  the  Citty. 

Hence  we  went  to  the  Palace  of  the  Archbishop,  which  is 
a  quadrangle,  the  architecture  of  Theobaldi,  who  design'd 
much  for  Philip  II.  in  the  Escurial,  and  has  built  much  in 
Milan.  Hence  I  went  into  the  Governor's  Palace,  who  was 
Constable  of  Castile ;  tempted  by  the  glorious  tapissries  and 
pictures,  I  adventur'd  so  far  alone,  that  peeping  into  a  chamber 
where  the  greate  man  was  under  the  barber's  hands,  he  sent 
one  of  his  Negro's  (a  slave)  to  know  what  I  was ;  I  made  the 
best  excuse  I  could,  and  that  I  was  only  admiring  the  pictures, 
which  he  returning  and  telling  his  lord,  I  heard  the  Governor 


LAKES,    MILAN,   TOWNS   TO   BOLOGNA      213 

reply  that  I  was  a  spie,  on  which  I  retir'd  with  all  the  speede 
I  could,  pass'd  the  guard  of  Swisse,  got  into  the  streete,  and 
in  a  moment  to  my  company,  who  were  gone  to  the  Jesuites 
Church,  which  in  truth  is  a  noble  structure,  the  fronte  especi- 
aly,  after  the  moderne.  After  dinner  we  were  conducted  to 
St.  Celso,  a  church  of  rare  architecture,  built  by  Bramante ; 
the  carvings  of  the  marble  faciata  are  by  Hannibal  Fontana, 
whom  they  esteeme  at  Milan  equal  to  the  best  of  the  ancients. 
In  a  roome  joyning  to  the  Church  is  a  marble  Madona  like 
a  Colosse,  of  the  same  sculptor's  work,  which  they  will  not 
expose  to  the  aire.  There  are  two  Sacristias,  in  one  of  which 
is  a  fine  Virgin  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  in  the  other  is  one  by 
Raphael  d'Urbino,  a  piece  which  all  the  world  admires.  The 
Sacristan  shew'd  us  a  world  of  rich  plate,  Jewells,  and  em- 
broder'd  copes,  which  are  kept  in  presses.   .  .   . 

We  concluded  this  day's  wandring  at  the  Monasterie  of 
Madona  della  Gratia,  and  in  the  Refectorie  admir'd  that  cele- 
brated Ca'na  Domini  of  Leonardo  da  Vinci,  which  takes  up 
the  intire  wall  at  the  end,  and  is  the  same  that  the  greate 
Virtuoso  Francis  the  First  of  France  was  so  enamour'd  of, 
that  he  consulted  to  remove  the  whole  wall  by  binding  it 
about  with  ribs  of  iron  and  timber  to  convey  it  into  France. 
It  is  indeede  one  of  the  rarest  paintings  that  was  ever  executed 
by  Leonardo,  who  was  long  in  the  service  of  that  Prince,  and 
so  deare  to  him  that  the  King  coming  to  visite  him  in  his  old 
age  and  sicknesse,  he  expired  in  his  armes.^  .  .   . 

Milan  is  one  of  the  most  princely  Citties  in  Europe  :  it 
has  no  suburbs,  but  is  circled  with  a  stately  wall  for  10  miles, 
in  the  center  of  a  country  that  seemes  to  flow  with  milk  and 
hony.  The  aire  is  excellent ;  the  fields  fruitfull  to  admiration, 
the  market  abounding  with  all  sorts  of  provisions.  In  the 
Citty  are  neere  100  Churches,  71  Monasteries,  40,000  inhabit- 
ants ;  it  is  of  a  circular  figure^,  fortified  with  bastions,  full  of 
sumptuous  palaces  and  rare  artists,  especialy  for  works  in 
chrystal,  which  is  here  cheape,  being  found  among  the  Alpes. 
They  are  curious  straw  workers  among  the  nunns,  even  to 
admiration.  It  has  a  good  river,  and  a  citadell  at  some  small 
distance  from  the  Citty,  commanding  it,  of  greate  strength 
for  its  works  and  munition  of  all  kinds.  It  was  built  by 
Galeatius  II.  and  consists  of  4  bastions,  and  works  at  the 
angles  and  fronts ;  the  graff  is  fac'd  with  brick  to  a  very  great 
depth ;    has   2   strong   towres  as   one   enters,  and  within    is 

^  The  story  has  no  basis  in  fact. 


214  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

another  fort  and  spacious  lodgings  for  the  souldiers  and  for 
exercising  them.  No  accommodation  for  strength  is  wanting, 
and  all  exactly  uniforme.  They  have  here  also  all  sorts  of 
work  and  tradesmen,  a  greate  magazine  of  armes  and  pro- 
visions. The  foss  is  of  spring  water  with  a  mill  for  grinding 
corn,  and  the  ramparts  vaulted  underneath.  Don  Juan 
Vasquez  Coronada  was  now  Governor ;  the  garrison  Spaniards 
onely. — Evelyn. 

The  Cathedral 

I  could  not  stay  long  in  Milan  without  going  to  see  the 
great  church  that  I  had  heard  so  much  of,  but  was  never  more 
deceived  in  my  expectation  than  at  my  first  entering  :  for  the 
front,  which  was  all  I  had  seen  of  the  outside,  is  not  half 
finished,  and  the  inside  is  so  smutted  with  dust  and  the 
smoke  of  lamps,  that  neither  the  marble,  nor  the  silver,  nor 
brass-works,  show  themselves  to  an  advantage.  This  vast 
Gothic  pile  of  building  is  all  of  marble,  except  the  roof, 
which  would  have  been  of  the  same  matter  with  the  rest,  had 
not  its  weight  rendered  it  improper  for  that  part  of  the  build- 
ing. But  for  the  reason  I  have  just  now  mentioned,  the 
outside  of  the  church  looks  much  whiter  and  fresher  than 
the  inside;  for  where  the  marble  is  so  often  washed  with 
rains,  it  preserves  itself  more  beautiful  and  unsullied,  than  in 
those  parts  that  are  not  at  all  exposed  to  the  weather.  That 
side  of  the  church,  indeed,  which  faces  the  Tramontane  wind, 
is  much  more  unsightly  than  the  rest,  by  reason  of  the  dust 
and  smoke  that  are  driven  against  it.  This  profusion  of 
marble,  though  astonishing  to  strangers,  is  not  very  won- 
derful in  a  country  that  has  so  many  veins  of  it  within  its 
bowels.  But  though  the  stones  are  cheap,  the  working  of 
them  is  very  expensive.  It  is  generally  said  there  are  eleven 
thousand  statues  about  the  church,  but  they  reckon  into  the 
account  every  particular  figure  in  the  history  pieces,  and 
several  little  images  which  make  up  the  equipage  of  those 
that  are  larger.  There  are,  indeed,  a  great  multitude  of  such 
as  are  bigger  than  the  life  :  I  reckoned  above  two  hundred 
and  fifty  on  the  outside  of  the  church,  though  I  only  told 
three  sides  of  it ;  and  these  are  not  half  so  thick  set  as  they 
intend  them. — Addison. 

This  cathedral  is  a  most  astonishing  work  of  art.  It  is 
built  of  white  marble,  and  cut  into  pinnacles  of  immense 
height,  and  the  utmost  delicacy  of  workmanship,  and  loaded 


LAKES,    MILAN,    TOWNS   TO   BOLOGNA      215 

with  sculpture.  The  effect  of  it,  piercing  the  solid  blue  with 
those  groups  of  dazzling  spires,  relieved  by  the  serene  depth 
of  this  Italian  heaven,  or  by  moonlight  when  the  stars  seem 
gathered  among  those  clustered  shapes,  is  beyond  any  thing 
I  had  imagined  architecture  capable  of  producing.  The 
interior,  though  very  sublime,  is  of  a  more  earthly  character, 
and  with  its  stained  glass  and  massy  granite  columns  over- 
loaded with  antique  figures,  and  the  silver  lamps,  that  burn 
for  ever  under  the  canopy  of  black  cloth  beside  the  brazen 
altar  and  the  marble  fretwork  of  the  dome,  give  it  the  aspect 
of  some  gorgeous  sepulchre.  There  is  one  solitary  spot  among 
those  aisles,  behind  the  altar,  where  the  light  of  day  is  dim 
and  yellow  under  the  storied  window,  which  I  have  chosen 
to  visit,  and  read  Dante  there. — Shelley. 

The  design  of  the  fagade  is  of  the  simplest :  it  is  an  acute 
angle  like  the  gable  of  an  ordinary  house,  bordered  with  lace 
of  marble,  and  having  on  the  wall,  without  anything  jutting 
out,  and  of  no  architectural  order,  five  doors  and  eight 
windows,  with  six  groups  of  spindle-shaped  columns,  or  rather 
constructive  connections  ending  in  hollowed  points  topped 
with  statues  and  filled  in  their  interstices  with  brackets  and 
niches  supporting  and  protecting  figures  of  angels,  of  saints 
and  of  patriarchs.  Behind  these  spring  up  in  numberless 
rounded  forms  like  the  shafts  of  a  basaltic  grotto,  forests  of 
belfries,  pinnacles,  minarets,  spikes  of  white  marble,  and  the 
central  spire,  which  seems  like  crystallised  ice  in  the  air, 
thrown  up  towards  a  fearful  height  in  the  sky,  and  placing, 
near  enough  to  step  into  heaven,  the  Virgin  who  stands  on  its 
topmost  point,  her  foot  on  the  crescent.  In  the  middle  of 
the  facade  are  written  the  words,  Marice  nascenti,  which  are 
the  dedication  of  the  cathedral. 

Begun  by  John  Galeas  Visconti,  and  continued  by 
Ludovico  il  Moro,  the  basilica  of  Milan  was  completed  by 
Napoleon.  It  is  the  biggest  church  in  existence  after  St. 
i'eter's  at  Rome.  Its  interior  is  of  a  majestic  and  noble 
simplicity  :  rows  of  coupled  columns  form  five  naves.  These 
grouped  columns,  in  spite  of  their  massive  structure,  are 
graceful  by  reason  of  the  elegance  of  the  shafts.  Above  the 
capital  of  the  pillars,  they  have  a  kind  of  windowed  and 
cut-out  gallery,  where  are  placed  statues  of  saints ;  then  the 
mouldings  are  carried  on  to  meet  in  the  summit  of  the  vault, 
which  is  decorated  with  trefoils  and  Gothic  enterlacings,  so 
perfectly  painted  that  they  would  deceive  the  eye  more  were 


2i6  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

it  not  that  the  pargetting — occasionally  fallen  away — shewed 
the  bare  stone. 

In  the  centre  of  the  cross  an  aperture  surrounded  by  a 
balustrade  shews  to  view  the  mystic  chapel  where  St.  Charles 
Borromeo  sleeps  in  a  crystal  coffin  covered  with  silver  plates. 
St.  Charles  is  the  best  revered  saint  of  the  town  :  his  virtues, 
his  heroism  during  the  plague,  made  him  so  popular  that  his 
memory  still  survives.  At  the  entrance  to  the  choir  is  a 
triforium  which  supports  a  crucifix  worshipped  by  angels  in 
adoration  ;  the  following  inscription  is  to  be  seen  in  a  wooden 
frame :  Attendite  ad  pet  ram  unde  excisi  est  is.  On  each  side 
rise  two  magnificent  pulpits,  both  of  the  same  metal,  upheld  by 
fine  figures  in  bronze,  and  with  silver  bas-reliefs  whose  weight 
is  the  least  part  of  their  value.  The  organ,  not  far  from 
the  pulpits,  has  for  its  shutters  big  canvases  by  Procacini, 
if  our  recollection  is  right.  Round  the  choir  runs  a  series 
of  sculptures  illustrating  the  Stations  of  the  Cross. — Th'eophile 
Gail  tier. 

San  Ambrogio 

Mention  is  made  often  of  San  Ambrogio,  founded  in  the 
fourth  century  by  St.  Ambrose,  completed  and  remodelled 
later  in  the  Romanesque  manner,  and  supplied  with  Gothic 
arches  towards  the  year  1300,  while  it  is  strewn  with  fragments 
of  the  intermediate  periods  in  the  shape  of  doors,  pulpit,^  and 
altar-coverings. — Taine. 

The  Last  Supper  (Santa  Maria  delle  Grazie) 

Of  the  Last  Supper,  I  would  simply  observe,  that  in  its 
beautiful  composition  and  arrangement,  there  it  is,  at  Milan, 
a  wonderful  picture ;  and  that,  in  its  original  colouring,  or  in 
its  original  expression  of  any  single  face  or  feature,  there  it  is 
not.  Apart  from  the  damage  it  has  sustained  from  damp, 
decay,  or  neglect,  it  has  been  (as  Barry  shows)  so  retouched 
upon,  and  repainted,  and  that  so  clumsily,  that  many  of  the 
heads  are,  now,  positive  deformities,  with  patches  of  paint  and 

^  Appreciation  of  such  work  as  the  pulpit  of  St.  Ambrogio  has  been 
possible  only  within  the  last  few  years.  It  is  not  Lombard,  though  it  has 
apparent  affinities.  Leader  Scott  dates  it  as  of  the  sixth  century,  and 
refers  to  the  Comacine  Solomon's  knots ;  the  earliest  instance  of  the  use 
of  the  Lion  of  Judah  in  connection  with  pillars  ;  the  Byzantine  scrolls  and 
interlaced  work,  and  the  symbolical  animals.  The  early  Christian  tomb 
under  the  pulpit  has  no  connection  with  it. 


LAKES,    MILAN,   TOWNS   TO    BOLOGNA      217 

plaster  sticking  upon  them  like  wens,  and  utterly  distorting 
the  expression.  Where  the  original  artist  set  that  impress  of 
his  genius  on  a  face,  which,  almost  in  a  line  or  touch,  separated 
him  from  meaner  painters  and  made  him  what  he  was,  succeed- 
ing bunglers,  fiUing  up,  or  painting  across  seams  and  cracks, 
have  been  quite  unable  to  imitate  his  hand ;  and  putting  in 
some  scowls,  or  frowns,  or  wrinkles,  of  their  own,  have  blotched 
and  spoiled  the  work.  This  is  so  well  established  as  an 
historical  fact,  that  I  should  not  repeat  it,  at  the  risk  of  being 
tedious,  but  for  having  observed  an  English  gentleman  before 
the  picture,  who  was  at  great  pains  to  fall  into  what  I  may 
describe  as  mild  convulsions,  at  certain  minute  details  of 
expression  which  are  not  left  in  it.  Whereas,  it  would  be 
comfortable  and  rational  for  travellers  and  critics  to  arrive  at 
a  general  understanding  that  it  cannot  fail  to  have  been  a 
work  of  extraordinary  merit,  once  :  when,  with  so  few  of  its 
original  beauties  remaining,  the  grandeur  of  the  general  design 
is  yet  sufficient  to  sustain  it,  as  a  piece  replete  with  interest 
and  dignity.^ — Dickens. 

The  Chapel  of  S.  Maurizio  (Monastero  Maggiore) 

The  student  of  art  in  Italy  after  mastering  the  characters 
of  different  styles  and  epochs,  finds  a  final  satisfaction  in  the 
contemplation  of  buildings  designed  and  decorated  by  one 
master,  or  by  groups  of  artists  interpreting  the  spirit  of  a 
single  period.  Such  supreme  monuments  of  the  national 
genius  are  not  very  common,  and  they  are  therefore  the  more 
precious.  Giotto's  chapel  at  Padua ;  the  Villa  Farnesina  at 
Rome,  built  by  Peruzzi,  and  painted  in  fresco  by  Raphael 
and  Sodoma ;  the  Palazzo  del  Te  at  Mantua,  Giulio  Romano's 
masterpiece  ;  the  Scuola  di  San  Rocco,  illustrating  the  Venetian 
Renaissance  at  its  climax,  might  be  cited  among  the  most 

1  "The  first  impression  derived  from  this  fresco,"  writes  Gautier,  "  is 
one  of  dream  ;  every  trace  of  handicraft  has  vanished  :  it  seems  to  float 
like  a  vapour  on  the  surface  of  a  wall  which  collects  it.  It  is  the  shadow 
of  a  painting,  the  ghost  of  a  masterpiece  coming  back  to  us.  The  result 
is  possibly  more  solemn  and  religious  than  if  the  picture  still  lived  ;  its 
body  may  be  gone,  but  its  entire  soul  survives."  Some  of  the  studies  for 
the  heads  are  in  the  Brera  at  Milan  and  the  Windsor  Library.  In  the 
Swiss  village  of  Ponte  Capriasca  there  is  an  early  Luinesque  fresco  copy 
01  the  work,  but  with  a  different  background.  Dr.  Richter  considers  the 
best  existing  copy  to  be  that  by  Marco  d'Oggione,  in  the  Diploma  Gallery 
of  the  Royal  Academy,  London. 


2i8  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

splendid  of  these  achievements.  In  the  church  of  the 
Monastero  Maggiore  at  Milan,  dedicated  to  S.  Maurizio,  Lom- 
bard architecture  and  fresco-paintmg  may  be  studied  in  this 
rare  combination.  The  monastery  itself,  one  of  the  oldest  in 
Milan,  formed  a  retreat  for  cloistered  virgins  following  the 
rule  of  S.  Benedict.  It  may  have  been  founded  as  early  as 
the  tenth  century ;  but  its  church  was  rebuilt  in  the  first  two 
decades  of  the  sixteenth,  between  1503  and  1519,  and  was 
immediately  afterwards  decorated  with  frescoes  by  Luini  and 
his  pupils.  .  .  . 

Round  the  arcades  of  the  convent-loggia  run  delicate 
arabesques  with  faces  of  fair  female  saints — Catherine,  Agnes, 
Lucy,  Agatha — gem-like  or  star-like,  gazing  from  their  gallery 
upon  the  church  below.  The  Luinesque  smile  is  on  their 
lips  and  in  their  eyes,  quiet,  refined,  as  though  the  emblems 
of  their  martyrdom  brought  back  no  thought  of  pain  to  break 
the  Paradise  of  rest  in  which  they  dwell.  There  are  twenty- 
six  in  all,  a  sisterhood  of  stainless  souls,  the  lilies  of  Love's 
garden  planted  round  Christ's  throne.—-/.  A.  Synionds. 

The  Brera 

The  Brera,  or  palace  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  was  anciently 
the  site  of  the  convent  and  church  of  the  Umiliati.  The 
conspiracy  of  these  monks  against  the  life  of  St.  Charles 
I^orromeo  occasioned  the  suppression  of  their  house;  and 
their  convent,  with  many  rich  donations,  passed  to  the  Jesuits. 
Under  their  direction,  the  Brera  became  one  of  the  most 
superb  monastic  palaces  of  Italy,  and  is  characterised  by  the 
grandiositc  which  universally  marks  the  work  of  this  order.  .  .  . 
On  the  suppression  of  the  Jesuits,  the  Brera  was  converted 
into  another  monastic  institution.  .  .  .  Under  the  recent 
government  1  of  the  kingdom  of  Italy  it  changed  its  name  to 
the  Institut.  .  .  .  The  upper  portico  of  this  fine  building  now 
contains  the  magnificent  gallery  into  which  all  that  could  be 
obtained  or  purchased  of  the  ancient  school  of  Lombardy  is 
elegantly  arranged. — Lady  Morgan. 

The  Monument  of  Gaston  de  Foix-  (Brera) 

The  hero  of  Ravenna  lies  stretched  upon  his  back  in  the 
hollow  of  a  bier  covered  with  laced  drapery ;  and  his  head 

^  Under  Napoleon. 
-  The  design  of  this  monument  is  now  in  South  Kensington. 


LAKES,    MILAN,   TOWNS   TO   BOLOGNA      219 

rests  on  richly  ornamented  cushions.  These  decorative  acces- 
sories, together  with  the  minute  work  of  his  scabbard,  wrought 
in  the  fanciful  mannerism  of  the  cinquecento^  serve  to  enhance  the 
statuesque  simplicity  of  the  young  soldier's  effigy.  The  contrast 
between  so  much  of  richness  in  the  merely  subordinate  details, 
and  this  sublime  serenity  of  treatment  in  the  person  of  the 
hero,  is  truly  and  touchingly  dramatic.-^/.  A.  Symonds. 

PAVIA 

Pavia,  that  was  once  the  metropolis  of  a  kingdom,  but  is 
at  present  a  poor  town.  We  here  saw  the  convent  of  Austin 
monks,  who  about  three  years  ago  pretended  to  have  found 
out  the  body  of  the  saint,  that  gives  the  name  to  their  order. 
King  Luitprand,  whose  ashes  are  in  the  same  church,  brought 
hither  the  corpse,  and  was  very  industrious  to  conceal  it,  lest 
it  might  be  abused  by  the  barbarous  nations,  which  at  that 
time  ravaged  Italy.  One  would  therefore  rather  wonder  that 
it  has  not  been  found  out  much  earlier,  than  that  it  is  dis- 
covered at  last.  The  fathers,  however,  do  not  yet  find  their 
account  in  the  discovery  they  have  made  ;  for  there  are  canons 
regular,  who  have  half  the  same  church  in  their  hands,  that 
will  by  no  means  allow  it  to  be  the  body  of  the  saint,  nor  is 
it  yet  recognised  by  the  pope.  The  monks  say  for  themselves, 
that  the  very  name  was  written  on  the  urn  where  the  ashes 
lay,  and  that  in  an  old  record  of  the  convent,  they  are  said 
to  have  been  interred  between  the  very  wall  and  the  altar 
where  they  were  taken  up.  They  have  already  too,  as  the 
monks  told  us,  begun  to  justify  themselves  by  miracles.  At 
the  corner  of  one  of  the  cloisters  of  this  convent  are  buried 
the  Duke  of  Suffolk  and  the  Duke  of  Lorrain,  who  were  both 
killed  in  the  famous  battle  of  Pavia.^  Their  monument  was 
erected  to  them  by  one  Charles  Parker,  an  ecclesiastic,  as  I 
learned  from  the  inscription. — Addisofi. 

1  Of  the  battle  of  Pavia,  fought  near  the  Carthusian  monastery  on  the 
outskirts  of  the  town,  Lassels  writes  :  "  Upon  S.  Matthias  his  day  (a  day 
favourable  to  Charles  the  Fifth  seeing  he  was  borne  on  that  day,  crowned 
Emperor  on  that  day,  and  got  this  victory  on  that  day)  was  fought  that 
memorable  battle  between  the  said  Emperor's  forces,  and  the  French 
king,  anno  1525,  where  Francis  the  1st  of  France  was  taken  prisoner, 
having  lost  the  day,  not  for  want  of  courage,  but  conduct :  for  he  had  a 
little  before,  sent  away  half  of  his  army  to  the  conquest  of  Naples."  The 
Chevalier  Bayard  fell  on  the  field. 


220  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


The  Certosa 

The  Certosa  is  a  wilderness  of  lovely  workmanship.  From 
Bourgognone's  majesty  we  pass  into  the  quiet  region  of  Luini's 
Christian  grace,  or  mark  the  influence  of  Leonardo  on  that 
rare  Assumption  of  the  Madonna  by  his  pupil,  Andrea  Solari. 
Like  everything  touched  by  the  Lionardesque  spirit,  this  great 
picture  was  left  unfinished  :  yet  Northern  Italy  has  nothing 
finer  to  shew  than  the  landscape,  outspread  in  its  immeasur- 
able purity  of  calm,  behind  the  grouped  Apostles  and  the 
ascendant  Mother  of  Heaven.  The  feeling  of  that  happy 
region  between  the  Alps  and  Lombardy,  where  there  are 
many  waters — et  tacitos  sine  labe  lacus  sine  viurmiire  rivos — 
and  where  the  last  spurs  of  the  mountains  sink  in  undulations 
to  the  plain,  has  passed  into  this  azure  vista,  just  as  all 
Umbria  is  suggested  in  a  twilight  background  of  young  Raphael 
or  Perugino. 

The  portraits  of  the  Dukes  of  Milan  and  their  families 
carry  us  into  very  different  regions  of  feeling.  Medallions 
above  the  doors  of  sacristy  and  chancel,  stately  figures  reared 
aloft  beneath  gigantic  canopies,  men  and  women  slumbering 
with  folded  hands  upon  their  marble  biers — we  read  in  all 
the  sculptured  forms  a  strange  record  of  human  restlessness, 
resolved  into  the  quiet  of  the  tomb.  The  iniquities  of  Gian 
Galeazzo  Visconti,  il  grande  Biscione,  the  blood-thirst  of  Gian 
Maria,  the  dark  designs  of  Filippo  and  his  secret  vices, 
Francesco  Sforza's  treason,  Galeazzo  Maria's  vanities  and 
lusts  ;  their  tyrant's  dread  of  thunder  and  the  knife ;  their 
awful  deaths  by  pestilence  and  the  assassin's  poignard ;  their 
selfishness,  oppression,  cruelty,  and  fraud ;  the  murders  of 
their  kinsmen  ;  their  labyrinthine  plots  and  acts  of  broken  faith  ; 
— all  is  tranquil  now.  .  .  .  Some  of  their  faces  are  common- 
place, with  bourgeois  cunning  written  on  the  heavy  features ; 
one  is  bluff,  another  stolid,  a  third  bloated,  a  fourth  stately. 
The  sculptors  have  dealt  fairly  with  all,  and  not  one  has  the 
lineaments  of  utter  baseness.  To  Cristoforo  Solari's  statues 
of  Lodovico  Sforza  and  his  wife,  Beatrice  d'Este,  the  palm  of 
excellence  in  art  and  of  historical  interest  must  be  awarded. 
Sculpture  has  rarely  been  more  dignified  and  true  to  life  than 
here.  The  woman  with  her  short  clustering  curls,  the  man 
with  his  strong  face,  are  resting  after  that  long  fever  which 
brought  woe  to  Italy,  and  to  the  boasted  minion  of  Fortune  a 


LAKES,    MILAN,    TOWNS   TO    BOLOGNA      221 

slow  death  in  the  prison  palace  of  Loches.  Attired  in  ducal 
robes,  they  lie  in  state,  and  the  sculptor  has  carved  the  lashes 
on  their  eyelids,  heavy  with  death's  marmoreal  sleep.  He  at 
least  has  passed  no  judgment  on  their  crimes.  .  .  . 

From  the  church  it  is  delightful  to  escape  into  the  cloisters, 
flooded  with  sunlight,  where  the  swallows  skim,  and  the  brown 
hawks  circle,  and  the  mason  bees  are  at  work  upon  their  cells 
among  the  carvings.  The  arcades  of  the  two  cloisters  are  the 
final  triumph  of  Lombard  terra-cotta.  The  memory  fails 
before  such  infinite  invention,  such  facility  and  felicity  of 
execution.  Wreaths  of  cupids  gliding  round  the  arches  among 
grape-bunches  and  bird-haunted  foliage  of  vine ;  rows  of 
angels,  like  rising  and  setting  planets,  some  smiling  and  some 
grave,  ascending  and  descending  by  the  Gothic  curves,  saints 
stationary  on  their  pedestals,  and  faces  leaning  from  the 
rounds  above ;  crowds  of  cherubs,  and  courses,  and  stars, 
and  acanthus  leaves  in  woven  lines,  and  ribands  incessantly 
inscribed  with  the  Ave  Maria.  Then,  over  all,  the  rich  red 
light  and  purple  shadows  of  the  brick,  than  which  no  sub- 
stance sympathises  more  completely  with  the  sky  of  solid 
blue  above,  the  broad  plain  space  of  waving  summer  grass 
beneath  our  feet.^ — J.  A.  Symonds. 

CREMA 

He  who  would  fain  make  acquaintance  with  Crema, 
should  time  his  entry  into  the  old  town,  if  possible,  on 
some  still  golden  afternoon  of  summer.  It  is  then,  if  ever, 
that  he  will  learn  to  love  the  glowing  brickwork  of  its 
churches  and  the  quaint  terra-cotta  traceries  that  form  its 
chief  artistic  charm.  How  the  unique  brick  architecture  of 
the  Lombard  cities  took  its  origin  ...  is  a  question  for  anti- 
quarians to  decide.  There  can,  however,  be  no  doubt  that 
the  monuments  of  the  Lombard  style,  as  they  now  exist,  are 
no  less  genuinely  local,  no  less  characteristic  of  the  country 
they  adorn,  no  less  indigenous  to  the  soil  they  sprang  from, 
than  the  Attic  colonnades  of  Mnesicles  and  Ictinus.  What  the 
marble  quarries  of  Pentelicus  were  to  the  Athenian  builders, 
the  clay  beneath  their  feet  was  to  those  Lombard  craftsmen. 
.  .  .  Of  all  .  .  .  Lombard  edifices,  none  is  more  beautiful 
than  the  Cathedral  of  Crema,  with  its  delicately-finished  cam- 
panile, built  of  choicely-tinted  yellow  bricks,  and  ending  in  a 
lantern  of  the  gracefullest,  most  airily  capricious  fancy.     This 


222  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

bell-tower  does  not  display  the  gigantic  force  of  Cremona's 
famous  torazzo,  shooting  396  feet  into  blue  ether  from  the  city 
square ;  nor  can  it  rival  the  octagon  of  S.  Gottardo  for  warmth 
of  hue.  Yet  it  has  a  character  of  elegance,  combined  with 
boldness  of  invention,  that  justifies  the  citizens  of  Crema  in 
their  pride. — -J.  A.  Sy/nonds. 


CREMONA  ^ 

Cremona  is  a  large  and  well-built  city,  adorned  with  many 
noble  edifices,  and  advantageously  situated  on  the  northern 
bank  of  the  Po.  Its  cathedral,  of  Gothic,  or  rather  mixed 
architecture,  was  begun  in  the  year  1107,  and  continued  at 
different  periods,  but  not  completely  finished  till  the  fourteenth 
century.  It  is  faced  with  white  and  red  marble,  and  highly 
ornamented,  though  in  a  singular  and  fanciful  style.  It  con- 
tains several  beautiful  altars  and  fine  paintings.  One  chapel 
in  particular  merits  attention.  It  is  that  which  is  set  apart 
for  the  preservation  of  the  relics  of  the  primitive  martyrs. 
Its  decorations  are  simple  and  chaste,  its  colours  soft  and 
pleasing.  The  ashes  of  the  "  sainted  dead  "  repose  in  urns  and 
sarcophagi  placed  in  niches  in  the  wall  regularly  disposed  on 
each  side  of  the  chapel,  after  the  manner  of  the  ancient  Roman 
sepulchres.  It  is  small,  but  its  proportions,  form,  and  furniture 
are  so  appropriate  and  so  well  combined,  that  they  produce 
a  very  beautiful  and  perfect  whole.  The  Baptistery,  which, 
according  to  the  ancient  manner  still  preserved  in  many  of  the 
great  towns  of  Italy,  is  a  separate  building  near  the  cathedral, 
contains  in  the  centre  a  font  of  curious  form  and  workman- 
ship, cut  out  of  one  immense  block  of  party-coloured  marble. 
The  tower  is  of  great  height  and  of  singular  architecture.  The 
view  from  it  is  extensive,  taking  in  the  town  with  its  streets ; 
the  roads  that  cross  the  country  in  straight  lines  in  various 
directions ;  the  Po  winding  along,  almost  close  to  the  walls, 

^  The  first  school  of  violin-makers  appears  to  have  been  at  Brescia, 
and  the  first  at  Cremona  was  originated  by  Amati,  who  was  probably 
apprenticed  at  Brescia.  Among  Amati's  pupils  were  his  sons  and  the 
celebrated  Antony  Stradivarius,  born  of  good  family  at  Cremona  in  1644, 
if  the  inscription  in  the  violin  bearing  his  age — 92 — and  signed  in  the 
year  1736  be  authentic.  Stradivari  is  Ijelieved  to  have  received  about  ^^4 
sterling  a-piece  for  his  violins  ;  he  contrived  to  give  instruments  a  new 
power  as  well  as  the  mellowness  attained  by  former  makers.  Another 
well-known  maker  of  stringed  instruments  in  Cremona  was  Joseph 
Guarncri. 


LAKES,    MILAN,    TOWNS   TO    BOLOGNA      223 

and  intersecting  the  immense  plain  of  the  Milanese  ;  the  Alps 
to  the  north,  and  the  Apennines  to  the  south-west,  both  covered 
with  snow,  and  occasionally  half  veiled  with  passing  clouds, — 
Eustace. 

PARMA 1 

The  chief  things  ...  to  be  seen  in  Parma  are  these  : 
the  Duke's  palace,  with  the  gardens,  fountains,  wild  beasts, 
the  admirable  theatre  to  exhibit  operas  in.  The  exquisite 
coaches  of  the  Duke;  one  whereof  is  all  of  beaten  silver, 
with  the  seats  and  curtains  embroidered  with  gold  and  silver ; 
another  so  well  gilt  and  adorned,  that  it's  almost  as  rich  as  the 
former.  Lastly,  the  stables,  where  I  saw  horses  suitable  both 
in  strength  and  beauty  to  the  foresaid  coaches.  Then  I  went 
to  the  Domo,  whose  cupola  was  painted  by  the  rare  hand  of 
Coreggio.2  Lastly,  to  the  Capucins,  in  whose  church  lies 
buried  my  noble  hero,  Alexander  Farnese,  Duke  of  Parma, 
whom  I  cannot  meet  in  this  my  voyage  without  a  compliment. 
He  was  the  third  Duke  of  Parma,  but  the  Tenth  Worthy. 
Indeed  his  leaping  the  first  man  into  the  Turk's  galley  in  the 
battle  of  Lepanto,  with  sword  in  hand,  and  in  the  eighteenth 
year  only  of  his  age,  was  such  a  prognostick  of  his  future 
worth ;  his  reducing  Flanders  again,  with  the  prodigious 
actions  done  by  him  at  the  taking  of  Antwerp,  was  such  a 
making  good  of  the  prognostic  ;  and  his  coming  into  France 
in  his  slippers  and  sedan  to  succour  Rouen  besieged  by  Henry 
the  IV.,  was  such  a  crowning  of  all  his  other  actions,  that  his 
history  begets  belief  to  Quintus  Curtius,  and  makes  men 
believe,  that  Alexanders  can  do  anything. — Lassels. 

The  Cathedral 

The  Cathedral,  or  Duomo  of  Parma,  is  one  of  great 
antiquity  and  great  celebrity.     It  is  a  splendid  specimen  of 

1  Near  Parma  is  Piacenza,  or  '^ pleasaunce"  writes  Lassels,  deserving 
of  its  name  "  by  reason  of  its  sweet  situation  in  a  rich  country  near  the  Po 
and  Trebbia.  .  .  .  The  country  round  about  this  town  is  very  rich  in 
pasturage."  It  was  for  the  church  of  San  Sisto  in  this  town  that  Raphael 
painted  the  Madonna  now  known  by  that  name  in  Dresden. 

"^  Many  efforts  have  been  made  to  express  in  words  the  "  Correggiosity 
of  Correggio."  Vasari  comes  nearest  to  the  mark  when  he  writes  :  "  We 
may,  indeed,  affirm  with  certainty  that  no  artist  has  handled  the  colours 
more  effectually  than  himself,  nor  has  any  painted  with  a  more  charming 
manner,  or  given  a  more  perfect  relief  to  his  figures,  so  exquisite  was  the 
softness  of  the  creations  from  his  hand,  so  attractive  the  grace  with  which 
he  finished  his  works." 


2  24  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  rude  magnificence  of  the  rudest  times.  It  is  of  the 
true  Italian-Gothic}  that  is,  mixed  and  semi-barbarous,  with 
nothing  of  the  exquisite  beauty  of  the  pure  Gothic  of  old 
EngUsh  architecture.  Grififins  and  Rons  guard  its  porticos, 
cockatrices  and  serpents  deform  its  architraves.  Yet,  still 
the  first  view  of  the  vast  interior  is  very  fine  and  imposing. 
The  high  dark  columns,  the  cloistral  galleries,  and  above 
all,  the  walls  enriched  by  the  pencil  of  Mazzuolo,  and  a 
cupola  painted  by  Correggio  (accused  indirectly  of  causing 
his  death),  give  it  great  interest. — Lady  Morgan. 

MODENA  2 

Modena  is  ...  a  handsome  town,  and  by  its  high  steeple 
shews  itself  to  travellers  long  before  they  come  to  it.  It 
hath  also  a  strong  citadel,  which  lying  flat  and  even  with  the 
town,  sheweth  the  town,  that  indeed  it  can  be  even  with  it, 
whensoever  it  shall  rebel.  The  palace  of  the  duke  hath  some 
rooms  in  it  as  neat  and  rich  as  any  I  saw  in  Italy;  witness 
those  chambers  hung  round  with  the  pictures  of  those  of  his 
family  and  wainscoted  with  great  looking-glasses  and  rich 
gilding. 

This  duke  is  of  the  family  of  Este,  but  not  of  the  true 
line :  wherefore  for  want  of  lawful  heirs  male,  Ferrara  and 
Commachia  fell  to  the  Church  in  Clement  the  Eighth's  time, 
and  remain  there  ever  since.  Of  the  true  house  of  Este,  was 
the  brave  Countess  Matilda,  the  dry-nurse,  as  I  may  say,  of 
the  Roman  Church.  For  it  was  she  who  defended  Gregory 
the  VII.  against  the  Emperor  Henry  the  VI.,  and  brought 
him  to  acknowledge  his  fault  and  cry  the  Pope  mercy.^ — 
Lassels. 

1  Begun  in  the  Lombardic  but  concluded  in  the  Italian-Gothic  era. 
The  Baptistery,  with  curious  little  pillared  galleries,  its  Gothic  pinnacles 
and  dwarf  bell- turret  on  the  top,  is  noticeable. 

-  The  town  was  celebrated  for  its  terra-cottas,  and  Vasari  writes  that 
Michael  Angelo,  passing  through  Modena,  "saw  many  beautiful  figures 
which  the  Modanese  sculptor,  Maestro  Antonio  Bigarino,  had  made  of 
terra-cotta,  coloured  to  look  like  marble,  which  appeared  to  him  to  be 
the  most  excellent  productions  ;  and  as  that  sculptor  did  not  know  how  to 
work  in  marble,  he  said  :  '  If  this  earth  were  to  become  marble,  woe  to 
the  antiques.'  " 

^  This  took  place  at  Canossa,  the  stronghold  afterwards  destroyed  by 
the  townsfolk  of  Keggio.  There  is  a  sketch  of  the  history  of  Canossa  in 
Symonds'  Sketches  and  Studies  in  Italy  and  Greece. 


LAKES,    MILAN,    TOWNS   TO    BOLOGNA      225 


BOLOGNA 

This  is  a  large  and  handsome  town,  much  bigger  and 
more  populous  than  Ferrara.  At  the  inn  where  we  put  up 
we  found  the  Seigneur  de  Montluc,  who  had  arrived  an  hour 
before  us,  having  come  direct  from  France  for  the  purpose 
of  staying  at  this  place  some  time,  to  perfect  himself  in 
fencing  and  riding.  On  Friday  we  went  to  see  the  Venetian 
fencer,  who  boasts  that  he  has  invented  a  system  of  sword 
play  that  will  supersede  every  other  system  ;  and  certainly 
his  method  very  much  differs  from  the  ordinary  practice. 
The  best  pupil  he  has  is  a  young  gentleman  of  Bordeaux, 
named  Binet.  We  saw  here  an  ancient  tower  of  a  square 
form ;  so  constructed  that  it  leans  all  on  one  side,  and 
appears  every  instant  to  be  about  to  fall.  .  .  .  The  town 
is  full  of  broad  and  handsome  colonnades,  and  you  every- 
where come  upon  splendid  palaces.  You  live  much  the 
same  as  at  Padua,  and  at  a  very  cheap  rate,  but  the  town  is 
not  so  tranquil,  in  consequence  of  the  long-standing  feuds 
which  exist  between  the  different  old  families  in  the  place, 
some  of  these  being  partisans  of  the  French,  while  others 
favour  the  Spaniards,  a  great  number  of  whom  reside  here. — 
Montaigne. 

Bologna  in  the  Seventeenth  Century 

This  towne  belongs  to  the  Pope,  and  is  a  famous  Uni- 
versity, situate  in  one  of  the  richest  spots  of  Europe  for  all 
sorts  of  provisions.  'Tis  built  like  a  ship,  whereof  the  Torre 
d'Asinello  may  go  for  the  mainmast.  The  Citty  is  of  no 
greate  strength,  having  a  trifling  wall  about  it,  in  circuit  neere 
5  miles,  and  2  in  length.  This  Torre  dAsinello,  as- 
cended by  447  steps  of  a  foote  rise,  seems  exceedingly  high, 
is  very  narrow,  and  the  more  conspicuous  from  another  tower 
call'd  Garisenda  so  artificially  built  of  brick  (which  increases 
the  wonder)  that  it  seems  ready  to  fall :  'tis  not  now  so  high 
as  the  other,  but  they  say  the  upper  part  was  formerly  taken 
down  for  feare  it  should  really  fall  and  do  some  mischief. 

Next  we  went  to  see  an  imperfect  Church  call'd  St. 
Petronius,  shewing  the  intent  of  the  founder  had  he  gone 
on.  From  this  our  guide  led  us  to  the  Schooles,  which 
indeede   are   very   magnificent.      Thence   to   St.    Dominic's, 

P 


2  26  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

where  that  saint's  body  Ues  richly  inshrin'd.  The  stalls,  or 
seates  of  this  goodly  church  have  the  historic  of  the  Bible 
inlaied  with  severall  woods  very  curiously  don,  the  work  of 
one  Fr.  Damiano  di  Bergomo  and  a  frier  of  that  order. 
Amongst  other  reliques  they  shew  the  two  books  of  Esdras 
written  with  his  own  hand.  Here  lie  buried  Jac.  Andreas 
and  divers  other  learn'd  persons.  To  the  Church  joynes 
the  Convent,  in  the  quadrangle  whereof  are  old  cypresses, 
said  to  have  been  planted  by  their  Saint. 

Then  we  went  to  the  Palace  of  the  Legat,  a  faire  brick 
building,  as  are  most  of  the  houses  and  buildings  for  the 
whole  towne,  full  of  excellent  carving  and  mouldings,  so  as 
nothing  in  stone  seemes  to  be  better  finish'd  or  more  orna- 
mentaU  ;  witnesse  those  excellent  columns  to  be  scene  in  many 
of  their  churches,  convents,  and  publiq  buildings,  for  the 
whole  towne  is  so  cloyster'd  that  one  may  passe  from  house  to 
house  through  the  streetes  without  being  expos'd  to  raine  or  sun. 

Before  the  stately  hall  of  this  Palace  stands  the  statue  of 
Paule  IV.  and  divers  others;  also  the  monument  of  the 
coronation  of  Charles  V.  The  Piazza  before  it  is  the  most 
stately  in  Italy,  St.  Mark's  at  Venice  onely  excepted.  In 
the  center  of  it  is  a  fountain  of  Neptune,  a  noble  figure  in 
coper.  Here  I  saw  a  Persian  walking  about  in  a  very  rich 
vest  of  cloth  of  tissue,  and  severall  other  ornaments,  accord- 
ing to  the  fashion  of  his  country,  which  much  pleased  me; 
he  was  a  young  handsome  person,  of  the  most  stately  mien. — 
Evelyti. 

Papal  Influence 

This  fat  Bologna  has  a  tristful  look,  from  the  numberless 
priests,  friars,  and  women  all  dressed  in  black  who  fill  the 
streets  and  stop  on  a  sudden  to  pray  when  I  see  nothing  done 
to  call  forth  immediate  addresses  to  Heaven.  .  .  .  Whilst  I 
perambulated  the  palaces  of  the  Bolognese  nobility,  gloomy 
though  spacious,  and  melancholy  though  splendid,  I  could 
not  but  admire  at  Richardson's  judgment  when  he  makes  his 
beautiful  bigot,  his  interesting  Clementina,  an  inhabitant  of 
superstitious  Bologna. — Mrs,  Piozzi. 

A  Thought  from  Goethe 

A  great  obstacle  to  our  taking  a  pure  delight  in  their  pic- 
tures, and  to  an  immediate  understanding  of  their  merits,  is 


LAKES,    MILAN,    TOWNS   TO   BOLOGNA      227 

the  absurd  subjects  of  most  of  them.  To  admire  or  to  be 
charmed  with  them  one  must  be  a  madman.  It  is  as  though 
the  sons  of  God  had  wedded  with  the  daughters  of  men,  and 
out  of  such  an  union  many  a  monster  had  sprung  into  exist- 
ence. No  sooner  are  you  attracted  by  the  gusto  of  a  Guido 
and  his  pencil,  by  which  nothing  but  the  most  excellent 
objects  the  eyes  sees  are  worthy  to  be  painted,  but  you,  at 
once,  withdraw  your  eyes  from  a  subject,  so  abominably  stupid 
that  the  world  has  no  term  of  contempt  sufficient  to  express 
its  meanness ;  and  so  it  is  throughout.  It  is  ever  anatomy — 
an  execution — a  flaying  scene — always  some  suffering,  never 
an  action  of  a  hero- — never  an  interest  in  the  scene  before  you 
— always  something  for  the  fancy,  some  excitement  accruing 
from  without.  Nothing  but  deeds  of  horror  or  convulsive 
sufferings,  malefactors  or  fanatics,  alongside  of  whom  the 
artist,  in  order  to  save  his  art,  invariably  slips  in  a  naked  boy 
or  a  pretty  damsel  as  a  spectator,  in  every  case  treating  his 
spiritual  heroes  as  little  better  than  lay-figures. — Goethe. 

The  Churches 

The  church  of  St.  Petronius  is  considered  as  the  principal 
church.  It  is  Gothic,  of  great  extent  and  antiquity,  and, 
though  not  beautiful,  is  celebrated  as  well  for  several  grand 
ceremonies  which  have  been  performed  in  it,  such  as  the 
coronation  of  Charles  V.  by  Clement  VII.,  as  for  the  meridian 
of  the  famous  astronomer  Cassini,  traced  on  its  pavement. 
It  was  built  about  the  years  440  or  450,  but  rebuilt  in  a  very 
different  style  in  1390,  and  seems  still  to  remain,  in  a  great 
degree,  unfinished.  The  prelate,  its  founder  first,  and  now  its 
patron,  flourished  in  the  reign  of  Theodosius,  and  was  a  man 
of  great  activity  and  general  benevolence.  He  enlarged  the 
extent  of  the  city,  adorned  it  with  several  public  buildings, 
procured  it  the  favour  and  largesses  of  the  emperor,  and  by 
his  long  and  unremitting  exertions  to  promote  its  welfare, 
seems  to  have  a  just  claim  to  the  gratitude  and  veneration  of 
its  inhabitants.  S.  Salvador,  S.  Paolo,  and,  above  all.  La 
Madonna  di  S.  Luca,  deserve  a  particular  visit.  This  latter 
church  stands  on  a  high  hill,  about  five  miles  from  Bologna. 
It  is  in  the  form  of  a  Greek  cross,  of  the  Corinthian  order, 
and  is  crowned  with  a  dome.  As  the  people  of  Bologna  have 
a  peculiar  devotion  to  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and  crowds  flock 
from  all  quarters  to  visit  this  her  sanctuary,  for  their  accom- 


228  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

modation,  in  all  seasons  and  in  all  weather,  a  portico  has 
been  carried  from  the  gates  of  the  city  up  the  hill  to  the  very 
entrance  of  the  temple,  or  rather  to  the  square  before  it. 
This  immense  building  was  raised  by  the  voluntary  contribu- 
tions of  persons  of  every  class. — Eustace. 

The  Bolognese^  School 

I  have  seen  a  quantity  of  things  here— churches,  palaces, 
statues,  fountains,  and  pictures ;  and  my  brain  is  at  this 
moment  like  a  portfolio  of  an  architect,  or  a  print-shop,  or  a 
commonplace-book.  I  will  try  to  recollect  something  of  what 
I  have  seen  ;  for,  indeed,  it  recjuires,  if  it  will  obey,  an  act  of 
volition.  First, we  went  to  the  cathedral,  which  contains  nothing 
remarkable,  except  a  kind  of  shrine,  or  rather  a  marble  canopy, 
loaded  with  sculptures,  and  supported  on  four  marble  columns. 
We  went  then  to  a  palace — I  am  sure  I  forget  the  name  of  it 
— where  we  saw  a  large  gallery  of  pictures.  Of  course,  in  a 
picture  gallery  you  see  three  hundred  pictures  you  forget,  for 
one  you  remember.  I  remember,  however,  an  interesting 
picture  by  Guido,  of  the  Rape  of  Proserpine,  in  which  Proser- 
pine casts  back  her  languid  and  half-unwilling  eyes,  as  it  were, 
to  the  flowers  she  had  left  ungathered  in  the  fields  of  Enna. 
There  was  an  exquisitely  executed  piece  of  Correggio,  about 
four  saints,  one  of  whom  seemed  to  have  a  pet  dragon  in  a 
leash.  I  was  told  that  it  was  the  devil  who  was  bound  in  that 
style — but  who  can  make  anything  of  four  saints  ?  For  what 
can  they  be  supposed  to  be  about  ?  There  was  one  painting, 
indeed,  by  this  master,  Christ  beatified,  inexpressibly  fine.  It 
is  a  half  figure,  seated  on  a  mass  of  clouds,  tinged  with  an 
ethereal,  rose-like  lustre ;  the  arms  are  expanded ;  the  whole 
frame  seems  dilated  with  expression ;  the  countenance  is 
heavy,  as  it  were,  with  the  weight  of  the  rapture  of  the  spirit ; 
the  lips  parted,  but  scarcely  parted,  with  the  breath  of  intense 
but  regulated  passion  ;  the  eyes  are  calm  and  benignant ;  the 
whole  features  harmonised  in  majesty  and  sweetness.  The 
hair  is  parted  on  the  forehead,  and  falls  in  heavy  locks  on 
each  side.  It  is  motionless,  but  seems  as  if  the  faintest  breath 
would  move  it.  The  colouring,  I  suppose,  must  be  very  good, 
if  I  could  remark  and  understand  it.     The  sky  is  of  a  pale 

1  We  preserve  this  impression  as  showing  what  a  great  poet  saw  in  the 
school.  The  Eclectics  undoubtedly  influenced  Velasquez  in  some  tech- 
nical matters,  as  also  did  Caravaggio  the  realist. 


LAKES,   MILAN,   TOWNS  TO   BOLOGNA      229 

aerial  orange,  like  the  tints  of  latest  sunset ;  it  does  not  seem 
painted  around  and  beyond  the  figure,  but  everything  seems 
to  have  absorbed,  and  to  have  been  penetrated  by  its  hues.  I 
do  not  think  we  saw  any  other  of  Correggio,  but  this  specimen 
gives  me  a  very  exalted  idea  of  his  powers. 

We  saw,  besides,  one  picture  of  Raphael — St.  Cecilia : 
this  is  in  another  and  higher  style ;  you  forget  that  it  is  a 
picture  as  you  look  at  it ;  and  yet  it  is  most  unlike  any  of  those 
things  which  we  call  reality.  It  is  of  the  inspired  and  ideal  kind, 
and  seems  to  have  been  conceived  and  executed  in  a  similar 
state  of  feeling  to  that  which  produced  among  the  ancients 
those  perfect  specimens  of  poetry  and  sculpture  which  are  the 
baffling  models  of  succeeding  generations.  There  is  a  unity 
and  a  perfection  in  it  of  an  incommunicable  kind.  The  central 
figure,  St.  Cecilia,  seems  rapt  in  such  inspiration  as  produced 
her  image  in  the  painter's  mind;  her  deep,  dark,  eloquent 
eyes  lifted  up  ;  her  chestnut  hair  flung  back  from  her  forehead- 
she  holds  an  organ  in  her  hands — her  countenance,  as  it  were, 
calmed  by  the  depth  of  its  passion  and  rapture,  and  penetrated 
throughout  with  the  warm  and  radiant  light  of  life.  She  is 
listening  to  the  music  of  heaven,  and,  as  I  imagine,  has  just 
ceased  to  sing,  for  the  four  figures  that  surround  her  evidently 
point,  by  their  attitudes,  towards  her ;  particularly,  St.  John, 
who,  with  a  tender  yet  impassioned  gesture,  bends  his  coun- 
tenance towards  her,  languid  with  the  depth  of  his  emotion. 
At  her  feet  lie  various  instruments  of  music,  broken  and 
unstrung.  Of  the  colouring  I  do  not  speak ;  it  eclipses 
nature,  yet  it  has  all  her  truth  and  softness. 

We  went  to  see  heaven  knows  how  many  more  palaces— 
Ranuzzi,  Marriscalchi,  Aldobrandi.  If  you  want  Italian 
names  for  any  purpose,  here  they  are;  I  should  be  glad  of 
them  if  I  was  writing  a  novel.  I  saw  many  more  of  Guido. 
One,  a  Samson  drinking  water  out  of  an  ass's  jaw-bone,  in  the 
midst  of  the  slaughtered  Philistines.  Why  he  is  supposed  to 
do  this,  God,  who  gave  him  this  jaw-bone,  alone  knows — but 
certain  it  is,  that  the  painting  is  a  very  fine  one.  The  figure 
of  Samson  stands  in  strong  relief  in  the  foreground,  coloured, 
as  it  were,  in  the  hues  of  human  life,  and  full  of  strength  and 
elegance.  Round  him  lie  the  Philistines  in  all  the  attitudes 
of  death.  One  prone,  with  the  slight  convulsion  of  pain  just 
passing  from  his  forehead,  whilst  on  his  lips  and  chin  death 
lies  as  heavy  as  sleep.  Another  leaning  on  his  arm,  with  his 
hand,   white  and   motionless,  hanging  out   beyond.     In  the 


230  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

distance,  more  dead  bodies  ;  and,  still  further  beyond,  the 
blue  sea  and  the  blue  mountains,  and  one  white  and  tranquil 
sail. 

There  is  a  Murder  of  the  Innocents,  also,  by  Guido,  finely 
coloured,  with  much  fine  expression — but  the  subject  is  very 
horrible,  and  it  seemed  deficient  in  strength — at  least,  you 
require  the  highest  ideal  energy,  the  most  poetical  and  exalted 
conception  of  the  subject,  to  reconcile  you  to  such  a  contem- 
plation. There  was  a  Jesus  Christ  crucified,  by  the  same, 
very  fine.  One  gets  tired,  indeed,  whatever  may  be  the  con- 
ception and  execution  of  it,  of  seeing  that  monotonous  and 
agonised  form  for  ever  exhibited  in  one  prescriptive  attitude 
of  torture.  But  the  Magdalen,  clinging  to  the  cross  with  the 
look  of  passive  and  gentle  despair  beaming  from  beneath  her 
bright  flaxen  hair,  and  the  figure  of  St.  John,  with  his  looks 
uplifted  in  passionate  compassion  ;  his  hands  clasped,  and  his 
fingers  twisting  themselves  together,  as  it  were,  with  involun- 
tary anguish ;  his  feet  almost  writhing  up  from  the  ground 
with  the  same  sympathy ;  and  the  whole  of  this  arrayed  in 
colours  of  a  diviner  nature,  yet  most  like  nature's  self.  Of 
the  contemplation  of  this  one  would  never  weary. 

There  was  a  "  Fortune,"  too,  of  Guido ;  a  piece  of  mere 
beauty.  There  was  the  figure  of  Fortune  on  a  globe,  eagerly 
proceeding  onwards,  and  Love  was  trying  to  catch  her  back  by 
the  hair,  and  her  face  was  half  turned  towards  him ;  her  long 
chestnut  hair  was  floating  in  the  stream  of  the  wind,  and  threw 
its  shadow  over  her  fair  forehead.  Her  hazel  eyes  were  fixed 
on  her  pursuer,  with  a  meaning  look  of  playfulness,  and  a  light 
smile  was  hovering  on  her  lips.  The  colours  which  arrayed 
her  delicate  limbs  were  ethereal  and  warm. — Shelley. 


TURIN,  GENOA,   PISA,  AND   TOWNS 
TO  LEGHORN 

THE  APPROACH  FROM  MONT  CENIS 

.  .  .  We  descended  a  long  and  steep  declivity,  with  the 
highest  point  of  Mount  Cenis  on  our  left,  and  a  lake  to  the 
right,  like  a  landing-place  for  geese.  Between  the  two  was  a 
low,  white  monastery,  and  the  barrier  where  we  had  our  pass- 
ports inspected,  and  then  went  forward  with  only  two  stout 
horses  and  one  rider.  The  snow  on  this  side  of  the  mountain 
was  nearly  gone.  I  supposed  myself  for  some  time  nearly  on 
level  ground,  till  we  came  in  view  of  several  black  chasms  or 
steep  ravines  in  the  side  of  the  mountain  facing  us,  with  water 
oozing  from  it,  and  saw  through  some  galleries,  that  is,  massy 
stone-pillars  knit  together  by  thick  rails  of  strong  timber, 
guarding  the  road-side,  a  perpendicular  precipice  below,  and 
other  galleries  beyond,  diminished  in  a  fairy  perspective,  and 
descending  "with  cautious  haste  and  giddy  cunning,"  and 
with  innumerable  windings  and  re-duplications  to  an  intermin- 
able depth  and  distance  from  the  height  above  where  we  were. 
The  men  and  horses  with  carts,  that  were  labouring  up  the 
path  in  the  hollow  below,  shewed  like  crows  or  flies.  The 
road  we  had  to  pass  was  often  immediately  under  that  we 
were  passing,  and  cut  from  the  side  of  what  was  all  but  a 
precipice,  out  of  the  solid  rock  by  the  broad,  firm  master- 
hand  ^  that  traced  out  and  executed  this  mighty  work.  The 
share  that  art  has  in  the  scene  is  as  appalling  as  the  scene 
itself — the  strong  security  against  danger  as  sublime  as  the 
danger  itself.  Near  the  turning  of  one  of  the  first  galleries  is 
a  beautiful  waterfall,  which  at  this  time  was  frozen  into  a  sheet 
of  green  pendant  ice— a  magical  transformation.  Long  after, 
we  continued  to  descend,  now  faster  and  now  slower,  and 
came  at  length  to  a  small  village  at  the  bottom  of  a  sweeping 

^  Napoleon  the  First. 
231 


232  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

line  of  road,  where  the  houses  seemed  like  dove-cotes  with  the 
mountain's  back  reared  like  a  wall  behind  them,  and  which  I 
thought  the  termination  of  our  journey.     But  here  the  wonder 
and  the  greatness  began  :  for,  advancing  through  a  grove  of 
slender  trees  to  another  point  of  the  road,  we  caught  a  new 
view  of  the  lofty  mountain  to  our  left.     It  stood  in  front  of  us, 
with  its  head  in  the  skies,  covered  with  snow,  and  its  bare 
sides  stretching  far  away  into  a  valley  that  yawned  at  its  feet, 
and  over  which  we  seemed  suspended  in  mid  air.     The  height, 
the  magnitude,  the  immoveableness  of  the  objects,  the  wild 
contrast,  the  deep  tones,  the  dance  and  play  of  the  landscape 
from  the  change  of  our  direction  and  the  interposition  of  other 
striking  objects,  the  continued  recurrence  of  the  same  huge 
masses,  like  giants  following  us  with  unseen  strides,  stunned 
the  sense  like  a  blow,  and  yet  gave  the  imagination  strength 
to  contend  with  a  force  that  mocked  it.      Here  immeasurable 
columns  of  reddish  granite  shelved  from  the  mountain's  sides ; 
here   they  were  covered    and   stained   with    furze  and   other 
shrubs ;   here  a  chalky  chff  shewed  a  fir-grove  climbing  its 
tall  sides,  and  that  itself  looked  at  a  distance  like  a  huge, 
branching,  pine-tree ;  beyond  was  a  dark,  projecting  knoll,  or 
hilly  promontory,  that  threatened  to  bound  the  perspective — 
but,  on  drawing  nearer  to  it,  the  cloudy  vapour  that  shrouded 
it  (as  it  were)  retired,  and  opened  another  vista  beyond,  that, 
in  its  own  unfathomed  depth,  and  in  the  gradual  obscurity  of 
twilight,  resemi)led  the  uncertain  gloom  of  the  back-ground  of 
some  fine  picture.     At  the  bottom  of  this  valley  crept  a  slug- 
gish stream,  and  a  monastery  or  low  castle  stood  upon  its 
banks.     The  effect  was  altogether  grander  than   I   had  any 
conception  of.     It  was  not  the  idea  of  height  or  elevation  that 
was  obtruded  upon  the  mind  and  staggered  it,  but  we  seemed 
to  be  descending  into  the  bowels  of  the  earth — its  foundations 
seemed  to  be  laid  bare  to  the  centre ;  and  abyss  after  abyss,  a 
vast,  shadowy,  interminable  space,  opened  to  receive  us.     We 
saw  the  building  up  and  frame-work  of  the  world — its  limbs,  its 
ponderous  masses,  and  mighty  proportions,  raised  stage  upon 
stage,  and  we  might  be  said  to  have  passed  into  an  unknown 
sphere,  and  beyond  mortal    limits.     As  we  rode  down   our 
winding,  circuitous  path,  our  baggage  (which  had  been  taken 
off)  moved  on  before  us  ;  a  grey  horse  that  had  got  loose  from 
the  stable  followed  it,  and  as  we  whirled  round  the  different 
turnings  in  this  rapid,  mechanical  flight,  at  the  same  rate  and 
the   same   distance    from   each   other,    there    seemed    some- 


TURIN,  GENOA,  PISA,  TOWNS  TO  LEGHORN     233 

thing  like  witchcraft  in  the  scene  and  in  our  progress  through 
it.  The  moon  had  risen,  and  threw  its  gleams  across  the 
fading  twilight ;  the  snowy  tops  of  the  mountains  were 
blended  with  the  clouds  and  the  stars ;  their  sides  were 
shrouded  in  mysterious  gloom,  and  it  was  not  till  we  entered 
Susa,  with  its  fine  old  draw-bridge  and  castellated  walls,  that 
we  found  ourselves  on  terra  firma,  or  breathed  common  air 
again.  ^ — Hazlitt. 

TURIN 

Turin,  anciently  called  Augusta  Taurinorum,  is  situated 
in  a  plain,  near  the  foot  of  the  hills  and  upon  the  banks  of 
the  river  Po,  which  begins  here  to  be  navigable,  and  from 
hence  carries  boats  to  Ferrara,  Chiosa  and  Venice.  This 
Po  is  a  noble  river,  and  very  large  in  some  places,  especially 
a  little  below  Ferrara.   .  .   . 

This  Turin  is  the  seat  of  one  of  the  greatest  princes  in 
Italy,  the  Duke  of  Savoy  and  Prince  of  Piedmont,^  who  is 
also  treated  with  the  title  of  altezza  reale,  and  vicario  generale 
del  imperio  in  Italia.  .  .  .  Anciently  the  Dukes  of  Savoy  kept 
their  court  at  Chambery  or  else  at  Bourg  en  Bresse,  a  country 
now  belonging  to  France,  upon  exchange  with  the  Marquisate 
of  Saluzzo ;  as  many  of  their  tombs  curiously  cut  in  marble, 
in  the  Augustins'  church  there,  yet  shew.  It  was  Amadeo, 
the  fifth  of  that  name,  Duke  of  Savoy,  that  transferred  the 
court  to  Turin.  ...  As  for  the  town  itself  of  Turin,  it's 
almost  square,  and  hath  four  gates  in  it,  a  strong  citadel  with 
five  bastions  to  it.  .  .  .  The  chief  things  which  I  saw  here, 
were  these. 

I.  The  Duomo,  or  great  church  in  which  is  kept  with 
great  devotion  the  Holy  Syndon,  in  which  our  Saviour's  body 
was  wound  up  and  buried.  .  .  .^ 

^  Hazlitt  left  Italy  by  the  road  over  the  Simplon,  and  remarks  :  "  I 
grant  the  Simplon  has  the  advantage  of  Mont  Cenis  in  variety  and  beauty 
and  in  sudden  and  terriffic  contrasts,  but  it  has  not  the  same  simple 
expansive  grandeur,  blending  and  growing  into  one  vast  accumulated 
impression." 

^  Lady  Morgan  writes  that  the  source  "  of  the  grandeur  of  the  house  of 
Savoy  was  the  position  of  its  little  territory,  that  rendered  it  the  guardian, 
or  gaoler  of  the  Alps,  and  which,  by  enabling  it  to  shut  or  open  this 
important  passage,  according  to  the  exigency  of  the  day,  made  its  alliance 
an  object  with  both  Guelf  and  Ghibellines,  French  or  Burgundians." 

■^  This  Holy  Shroud, — siidario, — is  according  to  some  accounts  the  same 
as  that  shown  at  several  other  places,  being  by  occult  means  transported 
thither.     This  particular  shroud  has  recently  gained  fresh  fame  owing  to 


234  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

2.  The  Citadel  standing  at  the  back  of  the  town. 

3.  The  Duke's  new  palace  handsomely  built  with  a  fair 
court  before  it,  a  great  piazza,  and  a  large  open  street  leading 
up  of  it.  The  chambers  are  fair  and  hung  with  hangings 
of  cloth  of  tissue,  of  a  new  and  rich  fabric,  with  rich  em- 
broidered beds,  chairs,  stools,  cloth  of  state  and  canopies. 
The  Dutchesses  cabinet,  the  curious  bathing  place  above, 
hung  round  with  the  true  pictures  in  little  of  the  prime  ladies 
of  Europe.  The  curious  invention  for  the  Dutchess  to  convey 
herself  up  from  her  bedchamber  to  that  bathing  room,  by  a 
pully  and  swing,  with  great  ease  and  safety :  the  great  hall 
painted  curiously  :  the  noble  staircase  :  the  old  long  gallery 
100  paces  long  with  the  pictures  in  it  of  the  princes  and 
princesses  of  the  house  of  Savoy,  with  the  statues  of  the 
ancient  emperors  and  philosophers  in  marble,  with  a  rare 
library  locked  up  in  great  cupboards — are  the  chief  rooms 
and  ornaments  of  this  palace. — Lassels. 

GENOA 

The  Citty  is  built  in  the  hollow  or  bosom  of  a  mountaine, 
whose  ascent  is  very  steepe,  high,  and  rocky,  so  that,  from 
the  Lantern  and  Mole  to  the  hill,  it  represents  the  shape  of 
a  theater ;  the  streetes  and  buildings  so  ranged  one  above 
another  as  our  seates  are  in  play-houses ;  but,  from  their 
materials,  beauty,  and  structure,  never  was  an  artificial  scene 
more  beautiful  to  the  eye,  nor  is  any  place,  for  the  size  of  it, 
so  full  of  well-design\i  and  stately  palaces,  as  may  be  easily 
concluded  by  that  rare  booke  in  a  large  folio  which  the 
great  virtuoso  and  paynter  Paull  Rubens  has  published,  tho' 
it  contains  [the  description  of]  only  one  streete  and  2  or  3 
churches. 

The  first  Palace  we  went  to  visit  was  that  of  Hieronymo 
del  Negros,  to  which  we  pass'd  by  boate  acrosse  the  harbour. 
Here  I  could  not  but  observe  the  sudden  and  devilish  passion 
of  a  seaman,  who  plying  us  was  intercepted  by  another  who 
interpos'd   his  boate   before  him  and  tooke  us  in  ;    for  the 

the  suggestion  in  M.  Paul  Vignon's  book  {Le  Linceiil  da  Christ)  that  the 
images  on  the  shroud  form  a  photographic  negative,  impressed  on  it  by 
the  action  of  the  ammoniacal  emanations  of  the  dead  body  in  contact 
with  myrrh  and  aloes.  Anticjuarian  opinion  in  the  Roman  church  has 
always  recognised  the  shroud  as  being  a  fourteenth-century  painting ;  this 
opinion  was  shared  by  Clement  VJI.     For  Turin's  palaces  see  Forsyth. 


TURIN,  GENOA,  PISA,  TOWNS  TO  LEGHORN     235 

teares  gushing  out  of  his  eyes,  he  put  his  finger  in  his  mouth 
and  almost  bit  it  off  by  the  joynt,  shewing  it  to  his  antagonist 
as  an  assurance  to  him  of  some  bloudy  revenge  if  ever  he 
came  neere  that  part  of  the  harbour  again.  Indeed  this 
beautifull  Citty  is  more  stayn'd  with  such  horrid  acts  of  revenge 
and  murthers  than  any  one  place  in  Europ,  or  haply  in  the 
world,  where  there  is  a  political  government,  which  makes  it 
unsafe  to  strangers.  It  is  made  a  gaily  matter  to  carry  a 
knife  whose  point  is  not  broken  off. 

This  Palace  of  Negros  is  richly  furnish'd  with  the  rarest 
pictures;  on  the  terrace,  or  hilly  garden,  there  is  a  grove 
of  stately  trees  amongst  which  are  sheepe,  shepherds,  and 
wild  beasts,  cut  very  artificially  in  a  grey  stone ;  fountaines, 
rocks,  and  fish-ponds  :  casting  your  eyes  one  way,  you  would 
imagine  yourselfe  in  a  wildernesse  and  silent  country ;  side- 
ways, in  the  heart  of  a  great  citty;  and  backwards,  in  the 
middst  of  the  sea.  All  this  is  within  one  acre  of  ground.  In 
the  house  I  noticed  those  red-plaster  flores  which  are  made 
so  hard,  and  kept  so  polished,  that  for  some  time  one  would 
take  them  for  whole  pieces  of  porphyrie.  I  have  frequently 
wonder'd  that  we  never  practic'd  this  in  England  for  cabinets 
and  rooms  of  state,  for  it  appears  to  me  beyond  any  invention 
of  that  kind  ;  but  by  their  carefuU  covering  them  with  canvas 
and  fine  mattresses,  where  there  is  much  passage,  I  suppose 
they  are  not  lasting  in  their  glory. 

There  are  numerous  other  Palaces  of  particular  curiositys, 
for  the  merchands  being  very  rich  have,  like  our  neighbours 
the  Hollanders,  little  or  no  extent  of  ground  to  employ  their 
estates  in  :  as  those  in  pictures  and  hangings,  so  these  lay  it 
out  on  marble  houses  and  rich  furniture. 

One  of  the  greatest  here  for  circuit  is  that  of  the  Prince 
d'Orias,  which  reaches  from  the  sea  to  the  sum'it  of  the  moun- 
taines.  The  house  is  most  magnificently  built  without,  nor 
less  gloriously  furnish'd  within,  having  whole  tables  and  bed- 
steads of  massy  silver,  many  of  them  sett  with  achates,  onyxes, 
cornelians,  lazulis,  pearls,  turquizes,  and  other  precious  stones. 
The  pictures  and  statues  are  innumerable.  To  this  Palace 
belong  three  gardens,  the  first  whereof  is  beautified  with  a 
terrace,  supported  by  pillars  of  marble ;  there  is  a  fountaine 
of  eagles,  and  one  of  Neptune  with  other  Sea-gods,  all  of  the 
purest  white  marble ;  they  stand  in  a  most  ample  basine  of 
the  same  stone.  At  the  side  of  this  garden  is  such  an 
aviary  as  Sir  Era.  Bacon  describes  in  his  Sertnones  fidelmm, 


236  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

or  Essays,  wherein  grow  trees  of  more  than  two  foote  diameter, 
besides  cypresse,  myrtils,  lentiscs,  and  other  rare  shrubs,  which 
serve  to  nestle  and  pearch  all  sorts  of  birds,  who  have  ayre 
and  place  enough  under  their  ayrie  canopy,  supported  with 
huge  iron  worke,  stupendious  for  its  fabrick  and  the  charge. 
The  other  two  gardens  are  full  of  orange-trees,  citrons,  and 
pomegranads,  fountaines,  grotts,  and  statues ;  one  of  the 
latter  is  a  Colossal  Jupiter,  under  which  is  the  sepulchre 
of  a  beloved  dog,  for  the  care  of  which  one  of  this  family 
receiv'd  of  the  K.  of  Spaine  500  crownes  a  yeare  during  the 
life  of  that  faithfuU  animal.  The  reservoir  of  water  here  is 
a  most  admirable  piece  of  art ;  and  so  is  the  grotto  over 
against  it. 

We  went  thence  to  the  Palace  of  the  Dukes,  where  is  also 
the  Court  of  Justice ;  thence  to  the  Merchants  Walke,  rarely 
covered.  Neere  the  Ducal  Palace  we  saw  the  publiq  armoury, 
which  was  almost  all  new,  most  neatly  kept  and  order'd,  suf- 
ficient for  30,000  men.  We  were  shew'd  many  rare  inventions 
and  engines  of  warr  peculiar  to  that  armory,  as  in  the  state 
where  gunns  were  first  put  in  use.  The  garrison  of  the  towne 
chiefly  consists  of  Germans  and  Corsicans.  The  famous 
Strada  Nova,  built  wholly  of  polish'd  marble,  was  design'd  by 
Rubens,  and  for  statelinesse  of  the  buildings,  paving,  and 
evennesse  of  the  streete,  is  far  superior  to  any  in  Europ,  for 
the  number  of  houses ;  that  of  Don  Carlo  d'Orias  is  a  most 
magnificent  structure.  In  the  gardens  of  the  old  Marquiss 
Spinola  I  saw  huge  citrons  hanging  on  the  trees,  apply'd  like 
our  apricots  to  the  walls.  The  Churches  are  no  less  splendid 
than  the  Palaces :  that  of  St.  Francis  is  wholly  built  of  Parian 
marble ;  St.  Lawrence,  in  the  middle  of  the  City,  of  white 
and  black  polish'd  stone,  the  inside  wholly  incrusted  with 
marble  and  other  precious  materials ;  on  the  altar  of  St.  John 
stand  4  sumptuous  columns  of  porphyry ;  and  here  we  were 
shew'd  an  emerald  supposed  to  be  one  of  the  largest  in  the 
world.  The  Church  of  Ambrosio  belonging  to  the  Jesuites  will, 
when  finish'd,  exceed  all  the  rest.  That  of  the  Annunciada, 
founded  at  the  charges  of  one  family,  in  the  present  and 
future  designe  can  never  be  outdone  for  cost  and  art.  The 
Mole  is  a  worke  of  solid  huge  stone  stretching  neere  600 
paces  into  the  main  sea,  and  secures  the  harbour,  heretofore  of 
no  safety.  Of  all  the  wonders  of  Italy,  for  the  art  and  nature 
of  the  designe,  nothing  parallels  this.  We  pass'd  over  to  the 
Pharos,  or  Lantern,  a  towre  of  very  great  height.     Here  we 


TURIN,  GENOA,  PISA,  TOWNS  TO  LEGHORN     237 

tooke  horses  and  made  the  circuite  of  the  Citty  as  far  as  the 
new  walles  would  let  us  ;  they  are  built  of  a  prodigious  height, 
and  with  Herculanean  industry,  witnesse  those  vast  pieces  of 
whole  mountaines  which  they  have  hewn  away,  and  blown 
up  with  gunpowder,  to  render  them  steepe  and  inaccessible. 
They  are  not  much  lesse  than  20  English  miles  in  extent, 
reaching  beyond  the  utmost  buildings  of  the  Citty.  From 
one  of  these  promontories  we  could  easily  discern  the  Island 
of  Corsica ;  and  from  the  same,  Eastward,  we  saw  a  Vale 
having  a  great  torrent  running  thro'  a  most  desolate  barren 
country ;  and  then  turning  our  eyes  more  Northward  we  saw 
those  delicious  Villas  of  St.  Pietro  d' Arena,  which  present 
another  Genoa  to  you,  the  ravishing  retirements  of  the  Genoese 
nobility.  Hence,  with  much  paine,  we  descended  towards  the 
Arsenale,  where  the  gallys  lie  in  excellent  order. — Evelyn. 

An  Eighteenth- Century  Account  ^ 

Horridos  tractus,  Boreii^q' ;  linquens 
Regna  Taurini  fera,  molliorem 
Advehor  biumam,  Genuseq' ;  aniantes 
Litora  soles. 

At  least  if  they  do  not,  they  have  a  very  ill  taste  ;  for  I 
never  beheld  any  thing  more  amiable  :  Only  figure  to  yourself 
a  vast  semicircular  bason,  full  of  fine  blue  sea,  and  vessels  of 
all  sorts  and  sizes,  some  sailing  out,  some  coming  in,  and 
others  at  anchor ;  and  all  round  it  palaces  and  churches 
peeping  over  one  another's  heads,  gardens,  and  marble 
terraces  full  of  orange  and  cypress  trees,  fountains,  and  trellis- 
works  covered  with  vines,  which  altogether  compose  the 
grandest  of  theatres.  This  is  the  first  coup  d'ceil,  and  is 
almost  all  I  am  yet  able  to  give  you  an  account  of,  for  we 
arrived  late  last  night.  To-day  was,  luckily,  a  great  festival, 
and  in  the  morning  we  resorted  to  the  church  of  the  Madonna 
delle  Vigne,  to  put  up  our  little  orisons  ;  (I  believe  I  forgot  to 
tell  you,  that  we  have  been  sometime  converts  to  the  holy 
Catholic  church)  we  found  our  Lady  richly  dressed  out,  with 
a  crown  of  diamonds  on  her  own  liead,  another  upon  the 
child's,  and  a  constellation  of  wax  lights  burning  before  them: 
Shortly  after  came  the  Doge,  in  his  robes  of  crimson  damask, 
and  a  cap  of  the  same,  followed  by  the  Senate  in  black.  .  .  . 
The  Doge  is  a  very  tall,  lean,  stately,  old  figure,  called 
*  We  mainly  preserve  this  letter  of  Gray's  as  a  literary  curiosity. 


238  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Costantino  Balbi ;  and  the  Senate  seem  to  have  been  made 
upon  the  same  model.  They  said  their  prayers,  and  heard 
an  absurd  white  friar  preach,  with  equal  devotion.  After  this 
we  went  to  the  Annonciata,  a  church  built  by  the  family 
Lomellini,  and  belonging  to  it ;  which  is,  indeed,  a  most 
stately  structure,  the  inside  wholly  marble  of  various  kinds, 
except  where  gold  and  painting  takes  its  place.  From  hence 
to  the  Palazzo  Doria.  I  should  make  you  sick  of  marble,  if  I 
told  you  how  it  was  lavished  here  upon  the  porticoes,  the 
balustrades,  and  terraces,  the  lowest  of  which  extends  quite  to 
the  sea.  The  inside  is  by  no  means  answerable  to  the 
outward  magnificence  ;  the  furniture  seems  to  be  as  old  as  the 
founder  of  the  family.^  Their  great  imbossed  silver  tables  tell 
you,  in  bas-relief,  his  victories  at  sea  ;  how  he  entertained  the 
Emperor  Charles,  and  how  he  refused  the  sovereignty  of  the 
Commonwealth  when  it  was  offered  him  ;  the  rest  is  old- 
fashioned  velvet  chairs,  and  Gothic  tapestry. — Thomas  Gray. 

The  Palaces 

There  are  a  great  many  beautiful  palaces  standing  along 
the  sea-shore  on  both  sides  of  Genoa,  which  make  the  town 
appear  much  longer  than  it  is,  to  those  that  sail  by  it.  The 
city  itself  makes  the  noblest  show  of  any  in  the  world.  The 
houses  are  most  of  them  painted  on  the  outside  ;  so  that  they 
look  extremely  gay  and  lively,  besides  that  they  are  esteemed 
the  highest  in  Europe,  and  stand  very  thick  together.  The 
New  Street  is  a  double  range  of  palaces  from  one  end  to  the 
other,  built  with  an  excellent  fancy,  and  fit  for  the  greatest 
princes  to  inhabit.  I  cannot  however  be  reconciled  to  their 
manner  of  painting  several  of  the  Genoese  houses.  Figures, 
perspectives,  or  pieces  of  history,  are  certainly  very  ornamental, 
as  they  are  drawn  on  many  of  the  walls,  that  would  otherwise 
look  too  naked  and  uniform  without  them:  but' instead  of 
these,  one  often  sees  the  front  of  a  palace  covered  with  painted 
pillars  of  different  orders.  If  these  were  so  many  true 
columns  of  marble,  set  in  their  proper  architecture,  they  would 
certainly  very  much  adorn  the  places  where  they  stand,  but  as 
they  are  now,  they  only  show  us  that  there  is  something 
wanting,  and  that  the  palace  which  without  these  counterfeit 
pillars  would  be  beautiful  in  its  kind,  might  have  been  more 
perfect  by  the  addition  of  such  as  are  real.  The  front  of  the 
'  Andrea  Doria. 


TURIN,  GENOA,  PISA,  TOWNS  TO  LEGHORN     239 

Villa  Imperiale,  at  a  mile  distance  from  Genoa,  witliout  any- 
thing of  this  paint  upon  it,  consists  of  a  Doric  and  Corinthian 
row  of  pillars,  and  is  much  the  handsomest  of  any  I  saw  there. 
The  Duke  of  Doria's  palace  has  the  best  outside  of  any  in 
Genoa,    as    that   of    Durazzo   is    the   best   furnished   within. 
There  is  one  room  in  the  first  that  is  hung  with  tapestry,  in 
which  are  wrought  the  figures  of  the  great  persons  that  the 
family  has  produced  ;  as  perhaps  there  is  no  house  in  Europe 
that  can  show  a  longer  line  of  heroes,  that  have  still  acted  for 
the  good  of  their  country.    Andrew  Doria  has  a  statue  erected 
to  him  at  the  entrance  of  the  Doge's  palace  with  the  glorious 
title  of  Deliverer   of  the  Commonwealth  ;    and  one   of   his 
family,  another,  that  calls  him  its  Preserver.     In  the  Doge's 
palace  are  the  rooms  where  the  great  and  little  council,  with 
the  two  colleges,  hold  their  assemblies  ;  but  as  the  state  of 
Genoa   is   very  poor,   though   several    of    its    members    are 
extremely  rich,  so  one  may  observe  infinitely  more  splendour 
and  magnificence  in  particular  persons'  houses,  than  in  those 
that  belong  to  the  public.     But  we  find  in  most  of  the  states 
of  Europe,  that  the  people  show  the  greatest  marks  of  poverty, 
where  the  governors  live  in  the  greatest  magnificence.     The 
churches  are  very  fine,  particularly  that  of  the  Annunciation, 
which  looks  wonderfully  beautiful  in  the  inside,  all  but  one 
corner  of  it  being   covered  with  statues,  gilding,  and  paint. 
A  man  would  expect,  in  so  very  ancient  a  town  of  Italy,  to 
find  some  considerable  antiquities  ;  but  all  they  have  to  show 
of  this  nature  is  an  old  rostrum  of  a  Roman  ship  that  stands 
over  the  door  of  their  arsenal.     It  is  not  above  a  foot  long, 
and  perhaps  would  never  have  been  thought  the  beak  of  a 
ship,  had  it  not  been  found  in   so   probable  a  place  as  the 
haven.     It  is  all  of  iron,  fashioned  at  the  end  like  a  boar's 
head  ;  as  I  have  seen  it  represented  on  medals,  and  on  the 
columna  rostrata  in  Rome.^ — Addison. 

1  The  following  note  usefully  supplements  Addison  :  "  What  is  most 
striking  here  in  point  of  architecture,  is  the  bridge  of  Carignan,  which  is 
almost  suspended  in  the  air,  and  deep  below  it  are  houses  six  stories  high. 
The  family  of  Carignan  had  a  fine  church  built,  which  still  goes  by  their 
name,  and  makes  one  of  the  finest  in  Genoa.  Its  situation  upon  a 
mountain  was  very  incommodious  for  pious  souls  ;  the  family  there  had 
the  bridge  built,  which  leads  from  the  opposite  mountain  to  the  church." 
— Arckenholtz. 


J40  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


The  Cathedral  at  Dusk^ 

The  cathedral  is  dedicated  to  St.  Lorenzo.  On  St. 
Lorenzo's  day,  we  went  into  it,  just  as  the  sun  was  setting. 
Although  these  decorations  are  usually  in  very  indifferent 
taste,  the  effect,  just  then,  was  very  superb,  indeed.  For  the 
whole  building  was  dressed  in  red ;  and  the  sinking  sun, 
streaming  in,  through  a  great  red  curtain  in  the  chief  doorway, 
made  all  the  gorgeousness  its  own.  When  the  sun  went 
down,  and  it  gradually  grew  quite  dark  inside,  except  for  a 
few  twinkling  tapers  on  the  principal  altar,  and  some  small 
dangling  silver  lamps,  it  was  very  mysterious. — Dickens. 

The  Streets 

When  shall  I  forget  the  Streets  of  Palaces :  the  Strada 
Nuova  and  the  Strada  Balbi  !  or  how  the  former  looked  one 
summer  day,  when  I  first  saw  it  underneath  the  brightest  and 
most  intensely  blue  of  summer  skies  :  which  its  narrow  per- 
spective of  immense  mansions,  reduced  to  a  tapering  and 
most  precious  strip  of  brightness,  looking  down  upon  the 
heavy  shade  below  !  A  brightness  not  too  common;,  even  in 
July  and  August,  to  be  well  esteemed  :  for,  if  the  Truth  must 
out,  there  were  not  eight  blue  skies  in  as  many  midsummer 
weeks,  saving,  sometimes,  early  in  the  morning ;  when,  looking 
out  to  sea,  the  water  and  the  firmament  were  one  world  of 
deep  and  brilliant  blue.  At  other  times,  there  were  clouds 
and  haze  enough  to  make  an  Englishman  grumble  in  his  own 
climate. 

The  endless  details  of  these  rich  Palaces :  the  walls  of 
some  of  them,  within,  alive  with  masterpieces  by  Vandyke  ' 
The  great,  heavy,  stone  balconies,  one  above  another,  and 
tier  over  tier :  with  here  and  there,  one  larger  than  the  rest, 
towering  high  up — a  huge  marble  platform ;  the  doorless 
vestibules,  massively  barred  lower  windows,  immense  public 
staircases,  thick  marble  pillars,  strong  dungeon-like  arches, 
and  dreary,  dreaming,  echoing  vaulted  chambers :  among 
which  the  eye  wanders  again,  and  again,  and  again,  as  every 
palace  is  succeeded  by  another — the  terrace  gardens  between 

1  There  is  so  little  to  be  said  about  the  cathedral,  that  we  have  chosen 
Dickens'  rendering  of  an  impression  that  we  have  all  felt  in  some  church 
in  Italy. 


TURIN,  GENOA,  PISA,    TOWNS  TO  LEGHORN     241 

house  and  house,  with  green  arches  of  the  vine,  and  groves 
of  orange-trees,  and  blushing  oleander  in  full  bloom,  twenty, 
thirty,  forty  feet  above  the  street — the  painted  halls,  moulder- 
ing, and  blotting,  and  rotting  in  the  damp  corners,  and  still 
shining  out  in  beautiful  colours  and  voluptuous  designs,  where 
the  walls  are  dry — the  faded  figures  on  the  outsides  of  the 
houses,  holding  wreaths,  and  crowns,  and  fiying  upward,  and 
downward,  and  standing  in  niches,  and  here  and  there  looking 
fainter  and  more  feeble  than  elsewhere,  by  contrast  with  some 
fresh  little  Cupids,  who  on  a  more  recently  decorated  portion 
of  the  front,  are  stretching  out  what  seems  to  be  the  semblance 
of  a  blanket,  but  is,  indeed,  a  sun-dial — the  steep,  steep,  up- 
hill streets  of  small  palaces  (but  very  large  palaces  for  all  that), 
with  marble  terraces  looking  down  into  close  by-ways — the 
magnificent  and  innumerable  Churches  ;  and  the  rapid  passage 
from  a  street  of  stately  edifices,  into  a  maze  of  the  vilest 
squalor,  steaming  with  unwholesome  stenches,  and  swarming 
with  half-naked  children  and  whole  worlds  of  dirty  people — 
make  up,  altogether,  such  a  scene  of  wonder :  so  lively,  and 
yet  so  dead  :  so  noisy,  and  yet  so  quiet :  so  obtrusive,  and 
yet  so  shy  and  lowering  :  so  wide  awake,  and  yet  so  fast 
asleep  :  that  it  is  a  sort  of  intoxication  to  a  stranger  to  walk 
on,  and  on,  and  on,  and  look  about  him.  A  bewildering 
phantasmagoria,  with  all  the  inconsistency  of  a  dream,  and 
all  the  pain  and  all  the  pleasure  of  an  extravagant  reality  ! — 
Dickens. 

The  Bay 

We  descended  the  heights  of  the  Bocchetta  in  one  of  those 
golden  showers  of  sunshine  so  peculiar  to  the  autumnal  mid- 
day of  Italy.  Genoa  the  Superb,  surrounding  the  semi-circular 
sweep  of  its  beautiful  port,  appeared  in  full  relief;  palaces 
rising  in  amphitheatres  against  those  abrupt  dark  cliffs,  which 
seem  to  spring  from  the  shore,  and  are  crowned  on  their 
extreme  summits  by  forts  and  towers,  mingled  with  high- 
poised  casinos  and  pending  villas.  In  the  front  of  these  home 
features  of  ports  and  palaces,  spreads,  blue  and  boundless, 
the  Mediterranean,  seen  at  first  with  a  startling  sensation  of 
pleasure,  and  for  ever  seen  with  the  interest  which  belongs  to 
its  associations,^ — Lady  Morgan. 

'  The  coast-line  has  often  been  admired,  and  Charles  Dickens  (par- 
ticularly happy  in  his  descriptions  of  Genoa)  surpasses  himself  in  the 
following  : — 

Q 


242  THE    BOOK   OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


LUCCA 1 

Lucca  is  a  pretty  little  Commonwealth,  and  yet  it  sleeps 
quietly  within  the  bosom  of  the  Great  Duke's  state.  .  .  .  This 
little  Republic  looked  in  my  eye,  like  a  perfect  map  of  old 
Rome  in  its  beginning.  It's  governed  by  a  Gonfaliero  and 
the  gentry.     The  great  counsel  consists  of  i6o  citizens  who 

"There  is  nothing  in  Italy,  more  beautiful  to  me,  than  the  coast-road 
between  Genoa  and  Spezzia.  On  one  side  :  sometimes  far  l^elow,  some- 
times nearly  on  a  level  with  the  road,  and  often  skirted  by  broken  rocks 
of  many  shapes  :  there  is  the  free  blue  sea,  with  here  and  there  a  picturesque 
felucca  gliding  slowly  on  ;  on  the  other  side  are  lofty  hills,  ravines  be- 
sprinkled with  white  cottages,  patches  of  dark  olive  woods,  country 
churches  with  their  light  open  towers,  and  country  houses  gaily  painted. 
On  every  bank  and  knoll  by  the  wayside,  the  wild  cactus  and  aloe  flourish 
in  exuberant  profusion  ;  and  the  gardens  of  the  bright  villages  along  the 
road,  are  seen,  all  blushing  in  the  summer-time  with  clusters  of  the  Bella- 
donna, and  are  fragrant  in  the  autumn  and  winter  with  golden  oranges 
and  lemons. 

"  Some  of  the  villages  are  inhabited,  almost  exclusively,  by  fishermen  ; 
and  it  is  pleasant  to  see  their  great  boats  hauled  up  on  the  beach,  making 
little  patches  of  shade,  where  they  lie  asleep,  or  where  the  women  and 
children  sit  romping  and  looking  out  to  sea,  while  they  mend  their  nets 
upon  the  shore.  There  is  one  town,  Camoglia,  with  its  little  harbour  on 
the  sea,  hundreds  of  feet  below  the  road  ;  where  families  of  mariners  live, 
who,  time  out  of  mind,  have  owned  coasting-vessels  in  that  place,  and 
have  traded  to  Spain  and  elsewhere.  Seen  from  the  road  above,  it  is  like 
a  tiny  model  on  the  margin  of  the  dimpled  water,  shining  in  the  sun. 
Descended  into,  by  the  winding  mule-tracks,  it  is  a  perfect  miniature  of 
a  primitive  seafaring  town  ;  the  saltest,  roughest,  most  piratical  little  place 
that  ever  was  seen.  .  .  .  The  church  is  bright  with  trophies  of  the  sea, 
and  votive  offerings,  in  commemoration  of  escape  from  storm  and  ship- 
wreck. The  dwellings  not  immediately  abutting  on  the  harbour  are 
approached  by  blind  low  archways,  and  by  crooked  steps,  as  if  in  darkness 
and  in  difficulty  of  access  they  should  be  like  holds  of  sliips,  or  inconvenient 
cabins  under  water;  and  everywhere,  there  is  a  smell  of  fish,  and  sea-weed, 
and  old  rope. 

"  The  coast-road  whence  Camoglia  is  descried  so  far  below,  is  famous, 
in  the  warm  season,  especially  in  some  parts  near  Genoa,  for  fire-flies. 
Walking  there  on  a  dark  night,  I  have  seen  it  made  one  sparkling  firma- 
ment by  these  beautiful  insects  :  so  that  the  distant  stars  were  pale  against 
the  flash  and  glitter  that  spangled  every  olive  wood  and  hill-side,  and 
pervaded  the  whole  air." 

'  On  the  railway  between  Lucca  and  Florence  are  Pistoia  and  Prato. 
Pistoia  was  the  birthplace  of  the  unhappy  division  between  Bianchi  and 
Neri  which  wrecked  Dante's  life.  Prato  was  celebrated  as  being  one  of 
the  strongest  fortresses  in  the  whole  of  Italy.  Descriptions  of  the  two 
towns  will  be  found  in  Dallington  and  Fynes  Moryson.  For  the  Lombard 
churches  at  Lucca,  Pistoia,  and  Prato  (all  of  extreme  interest  forComacine 
work),  Leader  Scott  must  be  consulted. 


TURIN,  GENOA,  PISA,  TOWNS  TO  LEGHORN     243 

are  changed  every  year.  It's  under  the  Emperor's  protection ; 
and  it  hath  about  thirty  thousand  souls  in  it.  Approaching 
unto  it,  it  looked  like  a  pure  Low-Country  town,  with  its  brick 
walls,  large  ramparts  set  round  with  trees  and  deep  moats 
round  the  walls.  It  hath  eleven  bastions,  well  guarded 
by  the  townsmen,  and  well  furnished  with  cannons  of  a 
large  size.  The  town  is  three  miles  in  compass.  .  .  .  The 
whole  state,  for  a  need,  can  arm  eighteen  thousand  men  of 
service.  .  .  . 

The  chief  things  to  be  seen  here,^  are,  the  Cathedral, 
called  St.  Martin's,  whose  bishop  hath  the  ensigns  of  an  arch- 
bishop, to  wit,  the  use  of  \hQ  pallmfji  and  the  cross,  and  whose 
canons  in  the  quire  wear  a  rochet  and  camail,  and  mitres  of 
silk  like  bishops. 

2.  The  Town-House,  or  Senate-House,  where  the  Gon- 
faliero  lives  during  the  time  of  his  charge. 

3.  The  church  of  S.  Frediano,  belonging  to  the  Canon 
Regulars,  where  in  a  chapel  on  the  left  hand,  is  the  tomb 
of  S.  Richard  King  of  England,  who  died  here  in  his 
pilgrimage  to  Rome.- 

4.  The  Augustins'  church,  where  is  seen  a  hole  where  the 
earth  opened  to  swallow  up  a  blaspheming  gamester.— Za^j-^/y. 

The  Republic 

It  is  very  pleasant  to  see  how  the  small  territories  of  this 
little  republic  are  cultivated  to  the  best  advantage,  so  that 
one  cannot  find  the  least  spot  of  ground,  that  is  not  made 
to  contribute  its  utmost  to  the  owner.  In  all  the  inhabitants 
there  appears  an  air  of  cheerfulness  and  plenty,  not  often  to 
be  met  with  in  those  of  the  countries  which  lie  about  them. 
There  is  but  one  gate  for  strangers  to  enter  at,  that  it  may 
be  known  what  numbers  of  them  are  in  the  town.  Over 
it  is  written,  in  letters  of  gold,  libertas. — Addison, 

1  The  Volto  Santo  is  described  by  Mr.  Montgomery  Carmichael. 

2  We  do  not  know  if  any  local  antiquary  has  solved  the  puzzle  of  who 
this  mysterious  king  may  be.  Evelyn  quotes  in  full  the  epitaph  in  leonine 
verses,  beginning  : 

Hie  rex  Ricardus  requiescit,  sceptifer  almus, 
Rex  fuit  Anglorum,  regnum  tenet  iste  polorum. 


244  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


PISAi 

The  City  of  Pisa  is  as  much  worth  seeing  as  any  in  Italy ; 
it  has  contended  with  Rome,  Florence,  Sardinia,  Sicily,  and 
even  Carthage.  The  Palace  and  Church  of  St.  Stephano 
(where  the  order  of  knighthood  called  by  that  name  was 
instituted)  drew  first  our  curiosity,  the  outside  thereof  being 
altogether  of  polish'd  marble ;  within  it  is  full  of  tables 
relating  to  this  order ;  over  which  hangs  divers  banners  and 
pendants,  with  other  trophies  taken  by  them  from  the  Turkes, 
against  whom  they  are  particularly  oblig'd  to  fight ;  tho'  a 
religious  order,  they  are  permitted  to  marry.  At  the  front 
of  the  Palace  stands  a  fountaine,  and  the  statue  of  the  greate 
Duke  Cosmo.  The  Campanile,  or  Settezonio,  built  by  John 
Venipont,  a  German,  consists  of  several  orders  of  pillars,  30 
in  a  row,  design'd  to  be  much  higher.  It  stands  alone  on  the 
right  side  of  the  Cathedrall,  strangly  remarkable  for  this,  that 
the  beholder  would  expect  it  to  fall,  being  built  exceedingly 
declining,  by  a  rare  addresse  of  the  architect ;  and  how  it  is 
supported  from  falling  I  think  would  puzzle  a  good  geo- 
metrician. The  Domo,  or  Cathedrall,  standing  neere  it,  is 
a  superb  structure,  beautified  with  6  columns  of  greate 
antiquity  ;  the  gates  are  of  brasse,  of  admirable  workmanship. 
The  Cemetere  cal'd  Campo  Santo  is  made  of  divers  gaily 
ladings  of  earth  formerly  brought  from  Jerusalem,  said  to  be 
of  such  a  nature  as  to  consume  dead  bodies  in  fourty  houres. 
'Tis  cloistred  with  marble  arches ;  here  lies  buried  the 
learned  Philip  Decius  who  taught  in  this  University.  At 
one  side  of  this  Church  stands  an  ample  and  well-wrought 
marble  vessell  which  heretofore  contain'd  the  tribute  paid 
yearly  by  the  Citty  to  Caesar.  It  is  plac'd,  as  I  remember, 
on  a  pillar  of  opilestone,  with  divers  other  antiq  urnes. 
Neere  this,  and  in  the  same  field,  is  the  Baptistery  of  San 

^  Montaigne,  when  at  Pisa,  was  told  of  a  ceremony  that  was  the  exact 
counterpart  of  that  at  Venice.  He  wrote:  "On  Thursday,  St.  Peter's 
day,  it  was  mentioned  to  me  that  formerly  the  Bishop  of  Pisa  went  in 
procession  to  the  church  of  St.  Peter,  four  miles  from  the  town  and 
thence  to  the  sea-side,  where,  casting  a  ring  into  the  sea,  he  solemnly 
espoused  it ;  but  at  that  time  Pisa  possessed  a  very  powerful  navy.  At 
present  the  sea  is  married  by  deputy,  by  one  of  the  masters  of  the  college, 
who  is  not  accompanied  by  anything  at  all  in  the  shape  of  a  procession. 
The  clergy  go  no  further  than  the  church,  where  they  distribute  a  number 
of  indulgences."     See  our  note,  p.  248,  on  S.  Pietro. 


TURIN,  GENOA,  PISA,  TOWNS  TO  LEGHORN     245 

Giovanni,  built  of  pure  white  marble  and  cover'd  with  so 
artificial  a  cupola  that  the  voice  uttered  under  it  seemes  to 
breake  out  of  a  cloud.  The  font  and  pulpit  supported  by 
4  lyons  is  of  inestimable  value  for  the  preciousness  of  the 
materials.  The  place  where  these  buildings  stand  they  call 
the  Area.  Hence  we  went  to  the  Colledge,  to  which  joynes 
a  Gallery  so  furnish'd  with  natural  rarities,  stones,  minerals, 
shells,  dry'd  animals,  skelletons,  etc.,  as  is  hardly  to  be  seen 
in  Italy.  To  this  the  Physiq  Garden  lyes,  where  is  a  noble 
palm-tree  and  very  fine  water-workes.  The  river  Arno  runs 
through  the  middle  of  this  stately  Citye,  whence  the  streete 
is  named  Longarno.  It  is  so  ample  that  the  Duke's  gallys, 
built  in  the  Arsenal  here,  are  easily  conveyed  to  Livorno ; 
over  the  river  is  an  arch,  the  like  of  which,  for  its  flatness, 
and  serving  for  a  bridge,  is  no  where  in  Europ.  The  Duke 
has  a  stately  Palace,  before  which  is  placed  the  statue  of 
Ferdinand  the  Third ;  over  against  it  is  the  Exchange,  built 
of  marble.  Since  this  Citty  came  to  be  under  the  Dukes  of 
Tuscany  it  has  been  much  depopulated,  tho'  there  is  hardly 
in  Italy  any  which  exceeds  it  for  stately  edifices.  The 
situation  of  it  is  low  and  flat,  but  the  inhabitants  have 
spacious  gardens  and  even  fields  within  the  walls. — Evelyn. 

The   Duomo 

Pisa,  while  the  capital  of  a  republic,  was  celebrated  for 
its  profusion  of  marble,  its  patrician  towers,  and  its  grave 
magnificence.  ...  Its  gravity  pervades  every  street,  but  its 
magnificence  is  now  confined  to  one  sacred  corner.  There 
stand  the  Cathedral,  the  Baptistery,  the  Leaning  Tower,  and 
the  Campo  Santo ;  all  built  of  the  same  marble,  all  varieties 
of  the  same  architecture,  all  venerable  with  years,  and 
fortunate  both  in  their  society  and  their  solitude. 

The  Cathedral,  though  the  work  of  a  Greek,i  and  sur- 
mounted by  a  cupola,  is  considered  by  Italians  as  Gothic: 
not  surely  the  Gothic  of  the  north ;  for  here  are  no  pointed 
arches,  no  clustered  pillars,  no  ribs  nor  tracery  in  the  vaults. 
To  prove  it  so  however,  they  adduce  some  barbarisms  in 
the  west  front ;   but  the  most  irregular  arches  in  that  front 

1  Buschetto.  Leader  Scott  (p.  209)  remarks  that  the  belief  that 
Buschetto  was  a  Greek  came  from  a  remark  of  Vasari's  that  he  came 
"from  Dulichium.  .  .  .  The  inscription  ...  on  Pisa  cathedral  says 
nothing  of  the  kind.  It  is  a  flowery  eloquence  which  Cavalier  Del  Borgo 
reads  as  comparing  him  for  genius  to  Ulysses,  Duke  of  Dulichium." 


246  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

are  as  round  as  the  angle  of  the  roof,  under  which  they  are 
crushed,  could  admit ;  they  all  rest  on  single  columns,  and 
these  columns,  though  stunted,  are  of  the  same  Greek  order 
as  prevails  below.  On  the  sides  are  some  large  arches,  each 
including  two  or  three  smaller  ones.  .  .  .  On  some  columns 
we  see  lions,  foxes,  dogs,  boars,  and  men  figured  in  the 
capitals,  but  such  ornaments,  though  frequent  in  Gothic 
churches,  had  been  introduced  long  before  them  into  those 
of  Greece  and  Italy.   .  .  . 

In  fact,  the  very  materials  of  this  cathedral  must  have 
influenced  the  design ;  for  columns  taken  from  ancient 
temples  would  naturally  lead  back  to  some  such  architecture 
as  they  had  left.  It  is  a  style  too  impure  to  be  Greek,  yet 
still  remote  from  the  Gothic,  and  rather  approaches  the 
Saxon  ;  a  style  which  may  here  be  called  the  Lombard.  .  .  . 
The  plan  and  elevation  are  basilical.  The  five  aisles  are 
formed  by  insulated  columns ;  the  chair  and  the  transepts 
are  rounded  like  the  tribuna ;  the  general  decoration  of  the 
walls  consists  in  round  arches  resting  on  single  columns  or 
pilasters.  .  .  .  The  side  altars  are  beautiful :  the  high  altar 
is  only  rich.  The  pictures,  though  not  much  admired,  assist 
the  architecture ;  but  the  sculpture  and  the  tombs  interrupt 
some  of  its  general  lines. — Forsyth. 

The  edifice  is  almost  a  Roman  basilica,  that  is  :  a  temple 
with  another  temple  built  upon  it,  or  in  other  words,  a  house 
having  a  gable  for  its  facade,  a  gable  cut  off  at  the  peak  to 
support  another  house  of  less  size.  Five  storeys  of  columns 
entirely  cover  the  fa9ade  with  their  superimposed  porticoes. 
They  stand  coupled  together  in  pairs  to  support  small  arcades  ; 
all  these  pretty  shapes  of  white  marble  under  their  dark 
arcades  form  an  aerial  population  of  the  most  perfect,  if  the 
most  unexpected,  grace.  Nowhere  here  do  we  think  of  the 
melancholy  dreams  of  northern  medisevalism ;  this  is  the 
feast-day  of  a  young  nation  which  is  awaking,  and  honouring 
its  gods  in  the  gladness  of  its  fresh  good-fortune.  It  has 
brought  together  capitals,  ornaments,  entire  columns  obtained 
on  the  distant  shores  where  its  wars  and  its  trade  have  led  it, 
and  these  fragments  take  their  place  without  any  lack  of 
harmony,  for  the  work  instinctively  falls  into  an  antique 
mould,  and  has  only  a  new  development  in  the  direction  of 
subtlety  and  charm,  every  traditional  form  reappearing,  but 
touched  in  the  same  way  by  a  keen  originality. — Taine. 

We  entered  the  cathedral  and  admired  the  stately  columns 


TURIN,  GENOA,  PISA,  TOWNS  TO  LEGHORN     247 

of  porphyry  and  of  the  rarest  marbles,  supporting  a  roof  which, 
like  the  rest  of  the  building,  shines  with  gold.  A  pavement 
of  the  brightest  mosaic  completes  its  magnificence ;  all  around 
are  sculptures  by  Michel  Angelo  Buonarotti.^  .  .  .  We  ex- 
amined them  with  due  attention  and  then  walked  down  the 
nave  and  remarked  the  striking  effect  of  the  baptistery. — 
Beckford. 

The  Baptistery  and  Campanile 

The  Baptistery,  which,  as  in  all  the  ancient  Italian  churches, 
is  separated  from  the  cathedral,  stands  about  fifty  paces  from 
it,  full  in  front.  It  is  raised  on  three  steps,  is  circular,  and 
surmounted  with  a  graceful  dome.  It  has  two  stories,  formed 
of  half-pillars  supporting  round  arches ;  the  undermost  is 
terminated  by  a  bold  cornice ;  the  second,  where  the  pillars 
stand  closer,  and  the  arches  are  smaller,  runs  up  into  num- 
berless high  pediments  and  pinnacles,  all  topped  by  statues. 
Above  these,  rises  a  third  story  without  either  pillars  or 
arches,  but  losing  itself  in  high  pointed  pediments  with 
pinnacles,  crowned  again  with  statues  without  number.  The 
dome  is  intersected  by  long  lines  of  very  prominent  stone 
fretwork,  all  meeting  in  a  little  cornice  near  the  top,  and  ter- 
minating in  another  little  dome  which  bears  a  statue  of  St. 
John  the  Baptist,  the  titular  saint  of  all  such  edifices.  The 
interior  is  admired  for  its  proportion.  Eight  granite  columns 
form  the  under  story,  which  supports  a  second  composed  of 
sixteen  marble  pillars ;  on  this  rests  the  dome.  The  ambo  or 
desk  for  reading  is  of  most  beautiful  marble,  upheld  by  ten 
little  granite  pillars,  and  adorned  with  basso  rilievos,  remark- 
able rather  for  the  era  and  the  sculptor  than  for  their  intrinsic 
merit.  The  font  is  also  marble,  a  great  octagon  vase,  raised 
on  three  steps  and  divided  into  five  compartments,  the  largest 
of  which  is  in  the  middle.  The  dome  is  famous  for  its  echo ; 
the  sides  produce  the  well-known  effect  of  whispering  galleries. 
This  edifice,  which  is  the  common  baptistery  of  the  city,  as 
there  is  no  other  font  in  Pisa,  was  erected  about  the  middle 
of  the  twelfth  century  by  the  citizens  at  large,  who  by  a  volun- 
tary subscription  oi  zfiorini  of  each,  defrayed  the  expenses. 

We  now  proceed  to  the  Campanile  or  belfry,  which  is  the 
celebrated  leaning  tower  of  Pisa.     It  stands  at  the  end  of 

1  The  designs  of  the  twelve  altars  and  of  several  figures  are  attributed 
to  him. 


248  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  cathedral  opposite  to  the  baptistery,  at  about  the  same 
distance.  It  consists  of  eight  stories,  formed  of  arches  sup- 
ported by  pillars,  and  divided  by  cornices.  The  undermost 
is  closed  up,  the  six  others  are  open  galleries.^ — Eustace. 

The  Town  and  Sta.  Maria  Bella  Spina 

Pisa  covers  an  inclosure  of  near  seven  miles  in  circum- 
ference :  the  river  intersects  and  divides  it  into  two  parts 
nearly  equal;  the  quays  on  both  sides  are  wide,  lined  with 
edifices  in  general  stately  and  handsome,  and  united  by  three 
bridges,  one  of  which  (that  in  the  middle)  is  of  marble.  As 
the  stream  bends  a  little  in  its  course,  it  gives  a  slight  curve 
to  the  streets  that  border  it,  and  adds  so  much  to  the  effect 
and  beauty  of  the  perspective,  that  some  travellers  prefer  the 
Lungarfw  (for  so  the  quays  are  called)  of  Pisa  to  that  at 
Florence.  The  streets  are  wide,  particularly  well  paved,  with 
raised  flags  for  foot  passengers,  and  the  houses  are  lofty  and 
good-looking.  There  are  several  palaces  not  deficient  either 
in  style  or  magnificence. 

Among  its  churches  the  traveller  cannot  fail  to  observe  a 
singular  edifice  on  the  banks  of  the  Arno  called  Santa  Maria 
della  Spina-'  (from  part  of  our  Saviour's  crowns  of  thorns  said 
to  be  preserved  there) — it  is  nearly  square,  low,  and  of  an 
appearance  whimsical  and  grotesque  rather  than  beautiful. 
It  is  cased  with  black  and  white  marble.  Two  great  doors 
with  round  arches  form  its  entrance ;  over  each  portal  rises 
a  pediment ;  the  other  end  is  surmounted  by  three  obelisks 
crowned  with  statues ;  the  corners,  the  gable-ends,  and  indeed 
the  side  walls,  are  decorated  with  pinnacles,  consisting  each  of 
four  little  marble  pillars,  supporting  as  many  pointed  arches 
with  their  angular  gables,  and  forming  a  canopy  to  a  statue 
standing  in  the  middle  of  the  pillars;  they  all  terminate  in 
little  obelisks  adorned  with  fretwork.^ — Eustace. 

^  Of  Niccolo  Pisano's  pulpit  in  the  Baptistery  Leader  Scott  remarks 
that  Niccolo  "  took  the  forms  of  his  sect,  but  improved  and  freed  them  ; 
he  held  to  the  traditional  symbolism  of  his  guild,  but  classicised  and 
enriched  it.  His  greatest  advance  was  in  the  modelling  of  the  human 
figure,  and  here  his  classic  models  helped  him." 

2  A  church  of  great  architectural  interest  at  Pisa  is  San  Pietro  in  Grado, 
built,  according  to  tradition,  at  the  spot  where  St.  Peter  landed  in  Italy. 
Leader  Scott  compares  it  to  St.  Apollinare  in  Ravenna,  but  adds,  "San 
Pietro,  however,  has  one  very  great  peculiarity.  It  has  no  fa9ade,  but  is 
built  with  the  usual  Lombard  three  apses  at  one  end,  and  a  single  semi- 
circular tribune  at  the  other.     The  only  door  is  at  the  side." 


TURIN,  GENOA,  PISA,  TOWNS  TO  LEGHORN     249 


Church  of  the  Knights 

The  Church  of  the  Knights  of  St.  Stephen,  which  is  the 
Grand  Duke's  order,  is  all  hung  with  standards  taken  from 
the  Turks ;  these  make  a  gallant  show,  but  I  wonder  whether 
the  Turks  have  not  also  got  some  of  the  flags,  which  belonged 
to  the  Knights,  in  their  mosques.  The  ceiling  is  painted  by 
Bronzino,  and  illustrates  the  life  of  Ferdinand  de'  Medici. — 
De  Brasses. 

Campo  Santo 

The  Campo  Santo  is  a  cemetery,  the  soil  of  which  is  holy 
ground,  brought  from  Palestine.^  Four  lofty  walls  of  poUshed 
marble  surround  it  with  their  white  and  crowded  panels. 
Inside,  a  square  gallery  forms  a  promenade  opening  into  the 
court  through  arcades  trellissed  with  ogive  windows.  It  is 
filled  with  funereal  monuments,  busts,  inscriptions,  and  statues 
of  every  form  and  of  every  age.  Nothing  could  be  simpler  or 
more  noble.  A  framework  of  dark  wood  supports  the  arch 
overhead,  and  the  crest  of  the  roof  cuts  sharp  against  the 
crystal  sky.  At  the  angles  are  four  rustling  cypress  trees, 
quietly  swaying  in  the  breeze ;  grass  is  growing  in  the  court 
with  a  wild  freshness  and  luxuriance ;  here  and  there  a  climb- 
ing flower  twines  round  a  column,  or  a  small  rosebush  or  shrub 
glows  beneath  a  flash  of  sunshine.  There  is  no  noise,  for  this 
quarter  of  the  town  is  deserted ;  only  now  and  then  the  voice 
of  some  one  passing  through  is  heard  reverberating  as  beneath 
the  vault  of  a  church.  It  is  the  truest  burial-ground  of  a  free 
and  Christian  people ;  here  before  the  tombs  of  mighty,  we 
can  muse  on  Death  and  Fame. 

The  work  of  the  interior  is  completely  covered  with 
frescoes.  ...  On  the  right  of  the  entrance  Pietro  d'Orvieto 

1  A  curious  reminder  of  the  connection  of  Pisa  with  the  East  is  the 
brood  of  camels.  Mrs.  Trollope  wrote  in  1842  :  "The  grand-ducal  farm 
of  San  Rossore  is  well  deserving  a  visit,  both  for  the  sake  of  observing  the 
very  noble  style  in  which  the  Grand  Duke  of  Tuscany  farms,  and  also  for 
the  opportunity  it  gives  of  seeing  a  numerous  herd  of  camels,  more  nearly 
in  the  condition  of  wild  camels  than  any  which  can  elsewhere  be  found  in 
Europe.  It  is  said,  whether  truly  or  not  I  could  not  feel  quite  certain, 
that  the  original  Asiatic  stock  from  which  this  herd  has  been  bred,  was 
brought  to  Pisa  at  the  time  of  the  Crusades,  by  a  monk  of  that  city."  Mr. 
Carmichael  states  that  the  first  camels  were  introduced  into  Tuscany  by 
the  Grand  Duke  Ferdinand  II.  in  1662. 


250  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

has  painted  a  colossal  Christ,  which  except  for  the  head  and 
the  feet,  almost  disappears  under  an  immense  disk  represent- 
ing the  world  and  the  revolving  spheres  ;  this  is  the  art  of 
primitive  symbolism.  Alongside,  in  the  painter's  story  of  the 
creation  and  of  our  first  parents,  Adam  and  Eve  are  big,  well- 
fed  and  rubicund,  but  yet  realistic  renderings  of  the  nude.  A 
little  further  on  Cain  and  Abel,  wearing  sheepskins,  display 
vulgar  countenances  taken  from  life  in  the  streets  or  men  in  a 
fray.  Feet,  legs  and  composition  are  still  barbaric,  for  this  is 
as  far  as  incipient  realism  will  go.  On  the  other  side,  and 
with  the  same  incongruities,  a  large  fresco  by  Pietro  Lorenzetti 
represents  ascetic  life.  Forty  or  fifty  scenes  are  comprehended 
in  the  picture  :  a  hermit  reading,  one  in  a  cave,  one  sleeping 
in  a  tree,  one  preaching  with  no  raiment  except  his  shock  of 
hair,  and  lastly  one  tempted  by  a  woman  and  flogged  by  the 
devil.  A  few  large  heads  with  grey  and  white  beards  shew 
the  clumsy  rusticity  of  ploughmen  ;  the  landscapes,  accessories, 
and  even  most  of  the  figures  are  grotesque,  the  trees  are  made 
of  feathers  and  the  rocks  and  wild  beasts  seem  to  belong  to  a 
travelling  menagerie.  Further  on,  Spinello  of  Arezzo  has 
painted  the  story  of  St.  Ephesus.  His  pagans,  half  Romans 
and  half  knights,  wear  armour  shaped  and  coloured  to 
mediaeval  taste.  Here  many  of  the  fighting  attitudes  are  true 
to  life,  as  for  instance,  of  a  man  thrown  on  his  face,  and  of 
another  seized  by  the  beard.  Several  are  contemporary 
figures,  as  for  instance  a  handsome  page  in  green  holding  a 
sword,  and  a  trim  young  squire  in  a  blue  pourpoint  with 
pointed  shoes  and  a  well-modelled  leg.  Observation  and 
composition  are  both  apparent  with  the  desire  to  impart 
interest  and  dramatic  variety,  but  it  is  only  a  beginning.  .  .  . 

Nothing  more  clearly  illustrates  this  ambiguous  state  of 
mind  than  a  fresco,  placed  near  one  of  the  angles,  called  the 
"  Triumph  of  Death  "  by  Orcagna.^  At  the  base  of  a  mountain 
a  cavalcade  of  lords  and  ladies  comes  forward ;  these  figures 
belong  to  the  time  of  Froissart,  and  wear  the  hood,  the  ermine 
and  the  brightly  decorated  dress  of  the  time,  and  have  the 
hawks  and  dogs  and  other  things  which  Valentin  Visconti 
went  to  seek  in  the  palace  of  Louis  of  Orleans.  The  heads 
are  also  true  enough :  this  elegant  veiled  noblewoman  on 
horseback  is  a  true  lady,  dreamy  and  thoughtful,  of  the  middle 

^  The  fresco  is  possibly  by  the  Lorenzetlis  of  Siena.  Benozzo 
Gozzoli  did  some  of  his  best  work  in  the  Compo  Santo,  but  his  frescoes  in 
the  Chapel  of  the  Riccaidi  Palace  at  Florence  are  better  preserved. 


TURIN,  GENOA,  PISA,  TOWNS  TO  LEGHORN     251 

ages.  This  company  of  the  great  and  happy  has  suddenly 
come  on  the  corpses  of  three  kings,  each  in  an  open  grave  and 
in  different  stages  of  corruption  :  one  with  a  swollen  body,  the 
next  gnawed  by  worms  and  serpents,  and  the  bones  of  the 
skeleton  of  the  last  already  showing.  The  riders  draw  rein, 
trembling :  one  leans  over  his  horse's  neck  to  obtain  a  better 
view,  another  stops  his  nostrils.  The  picture  is  a  "  morality  " 
like  those  given  in  the  playhouse ;  the  aim  of  the  artist  is  to 
instruct  his  public,  and  to  do  so  he  brings  every  available 
episode  to  bear  on  the  principal  group.  On  the  tops  of  the 
mountain  are  monks  in  their  hermitages,  one  reading,  one 
milking  a  fawn,  with,  in  their  midst,  the  beasts  of  the  desert, 
a  weasel  and  a  crane.  We  might  render  the  lesson  thus  : 
"  You  good  people  who  gaze  on  this,  see  the  contemplative 
life  of  the  Christian,  the  holiness  disdained  by  the  mighty 
ones  of  the  earth  !  "  But  Death  comes  to  restore  the  balance, 
advancing  in  the  guise  of  an  old  greybeard  with  a  scythe  in 
his  hand  to  cut  down  the  gay  pleasure-seekers,  the  overfed 
and  curled  young  lords  and  ladies  who  are  making  merry  in 
the  grove.  With  a  kind  of  cruel  irony  he  mows  down  those 
who  fear  him  and  avoids  those  who  long  to  die  :  a  troop  of 
the  maimed,  crippled,  blinded,  and  beggared  summon  him  in 
vain, — his  scythe  is  not  for  them.  Such  is  the  path  to  be 
trodden  in  this  frail,  mournful  and  miserable  world,  and  the 
end  towards  which  all  things  tend  is  sadder  still.  It  is 
universal  destruction  :  the  yawning  abyss  into  which  each  and 
all  must  be  cast  in  a  heap,  kings  and  queens,  popes,  arch- 
bishops and  priests.  Their  crowns  are  cast  aside,  and  their 
souls— in  the  shapes  of  naked  babes — issue  from  their  bodies 
to  take  their  place  in  a  dreadful  eternity.  Some  are  welcomed 
by  angels,  but  the  greater  number  are  seized  by  demons,  with 
horrible  and  vicious  faces,  with  forms  of  goats  and  toads,  and 
with  bats'.^ears  and  the  jaws  and  claws  of  cats — a  grotesque 
crew  leaping  and  dancing  round  their  quarry.  The  whole 
fresco  is  a  singular  mixture  of  dramatic  passion,  morbid  philo- 
sophy, accurate  observation,  awkward  triviality  and  picturesque 
confusion. — Taine. 

LEGHORN 

Leghorn  is  fourteen  miles  from  Pisa ;  a  very  pretty  town, 
well  fortified,  and  populous ;  with  broad,  straight,  and  well- 
built  streets.     The  public  square  is  handsome  and  the  town 


252  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

pleasant.  There  may  be  40,000  people  of  all  nations  in  it : 
Greeks,  Jews,  Armenians.  Catholics,  Protestants;  but  the 
Jews  number  6000  or  7000  and  have  the  particular  protection 
of  the  government.  ...  In  fine,  we  cannot  see  the  town 
without  having  a  good  idea  of  the  government  of  the  Tuscan 
Grand-Dukes,  who  have  made  a  flourishing  town  and  fine 
harbour  in  spite  of  sea,  air,  and  natural  obstacles.^ — 
Alontesquiou. 

1  Leghorn  might  be  called  the  "town  of  toleration,"  as  the  Medici 
built  it  as  an  asylum  for  the  persecuted  races.  Evelyn  gives  us  a  curious 
glimpse  into  its  life  :  "  Here,  especialy  in  this  Piazza,  is  such  a  concourse 
of  slaves,  Turkes,  Mores,  and  other  nations,  that  the  number  and  confusion 
is  prodigious  ;  some  buying,  others  selling,  others  drinking,  others  playing, 
some  working,  others  sleeping,  fighting,  singing,  weeping,  all  nearly 
naked,  and  miserably  chayn'd.  Here  was  a  tent,  where  any  idle  fellow 
might  stake  his  liberty  against  a  few  crownes,  at  dice  or  other  hazard,  and, 
if  he  lost,  he  was  immediately  chayn'd  and  led  away  to  the  gallys,  where 
he  was  to  serve  a  tearm  of  yeares,  but  from  whence  they  seldom  return'd  : 
many  sottish  persons  in  a  drunken  bravado  would  try  their  fortune  in  this 
way." 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  AND  TOWNS 
TO  ORVIETO 

THE  APPROACH  TO  FLORENCE 

As  we  approached  Florence,  the  country  became  cultivated  to 
a  very  high  degree,  the  plain  was  filled  with  the  most  beautiful 
villas,  and,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  the  mountains  were 
covered  with  them ;  for  the  plains  are  bounded  on  all  sides 
by  blue  and  misty  mountains.  The  vines  are  here  trailed  on 
low  trellisses  of  reeds  interwoven  into  crosses  to  support  them, 
and  the  grapes,  now  almost  ripe,  are  exceedingly  abundant. 
You  everywhere  meet  those  teams  of  beautiful  white  oxen, 
which  are  now  labouring  the  little  vine-divided  fields  with 
their  Virgilian  ploughs  and  carts.  Florence  itself,  that  is  the 
Lung'  Arno  (for  I  have  seen  no  more),  I  think  is  the  most 
beautiful  city  I  have  yet  seen.  It  is  surrounded  with  culti- 
vated hills,  and  from  the  bridge  which  crosses  the  broad 
channel  of  the  Arno,  the  view  is  the  most  animated  and 
elegant  I  ever  saw.  You  see  three  or  four  bridges,  one 
apparently  supported  by  Corinthian  pillars,  and  the  white  sails 
of  the  boats,  relieved  by  the  deep  green  of  the  forest,  which 
comes  to  the  water's  edge,  and  the  sloping  hills  covered  with 
bright  villas  on  every  side.  Domes  and  steeples  rise  on  all 
sides,  and  the  cleanliness  is  remarkably  great.  On  the  other 
side  there  are  the  foldings  of  the  Vale  of  Arno  above  ;  first  the 
hills  of  olive  and  vine,  then  the  chestnut  woods,  and  then  the 
blue  and  misty  pine  forests,  which  invest  the  aerial  Apennines, 
that  fade  in  the  distance.  I  have  seldom  seen  a  city  so  lovely 
at  first  sight  as  Florence. — Shelley. 

As  I  approached  Florence  .  .  .  the  country  looked,  not 
indeed  strikingly  beautiful,  but  very  pleasing.  The  sight  of 
the  olive-trees  interested  me  much.  I  had,  indeed,  seen  what 
I  was  told  were  olive-trees,  as  I  was  whirled  down  the  Rhone 
from  Lyons  to  Avignon ;  but  they  might,  for  anything  I  saw, 

253 


254  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

have  been  willows  or  ash-trees.  Now  they  stood,  covered 
with  berries,  along  the  road  for  miles.  I  looked  at  them  with 
the  same  sort  of  feeling  with  which  Washington  Irving  says 
that  he  heard  the  nightingale  for  the  first  time  when  he  came 
to  England,  after  having  read  descriptions  of  her  in  poets 
from  his  childhood.  I  thought  of  the  Hebrews,  and  their 
numerous  images  drawn  from  the  olive ;  of  the  veneration  in 
which  the  tree  was  held  by  the  Athenians;  of  Lysias's  speech  ; 
of  the  fine  ode  in  the  QLdipus  at  Colonus;  of  Virgil  and 
Lorenzo  de'  Medici. — Lord  Macaulay. 

While  Milan  is  a  circular  town,  without  a  river,  a  town 
that  lies  in  an  unbroken  plain  except  for  its  many  brooks  of 
running  water,  Florence  is  built  entirely  differently  in  a  fair- 
sized  valley  that  is  bounded  by  rugged  mountains.  The  town 
is  right  against  the  hill  which  limits  it  to  the  south,  and  by  the 
disposition  of  its  streets  is  not  unlike  Paris,  being  also  situated 
on  the  Arno  as  Paris  is  on  the  Seine.  .  .  .  If  we  go  to  the 
southern  hill  in  the  garden  of  the  Pitti  Palace  and  thence 
walk  round  the  walls  as  far  as  the  Arezzo  road,  we  shall  get 
an  idea  of  the  infinite  number  of  little  hills  of  which  Tuscany 
is  made  up,  and  which,  covered  with  olives,  vines,  and  small 
patches  of  wheat,  are  cultivated  like  a  garden.  ...  As  in  the 
pictures  of  Leonardo  and  of  the  early  manner  of  Raphael,  the 
horizon  is  often  bounded  by  dark  trees  relieved  against  a  blue 
sky. — Stendhal. 

PERSONAL  ACCOUNTS 

Florence  in  the  Sixteenth  Century  ^ 

...  I  saw  the  public  processions,  and  the  grand-duke  in 
his  state-coach.  Among  other  grand  sights  exhibited  on  this 
occasion,  there  is  a  sort  of  small  moveable  stage,  gilt  on  the 
outside,  on  which  there  are  four  little  children,  and  a  monk, 
or  a  nun  dressed  up  as  a  monk,  with  a  great  false  beard,  who 
represents  St.  Francis  of  Assisi,  standing,  holding  his  hands 
crossed  upon  his  breast,  as  in  the  portrait  of  him,  and  with  a 
crown  over  his  head,  fixed  on  his  hood.     There  were  other 

'  This  is  Montaigne's  visit  to  Florence  on  his  return  from  Rome.  The 
visit  on  his  way  to  Rome  is  less  interesting  except  for  a  brief  mention  of 
Bianca  Capello,  and  the  dictum:  "  M.  de  Montaigne  said  he  had  never 
been  in  a  country  where  there  were  so  few  pretty  women  as  in  Italy." 
His  visit  included  an  excursion  to  Pratolino,  but  we  have  preferred  to 
choose  the  account  given  by  Lassels. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     255 

children  on  foot,  armed,  one  of  whom  represented  St.  George. 
When  these  came  to  the  square,  there  rushed  out  upon  the 
champion  a  great  dragon,  made  to  look  very  terrible,  and 
spouting  flames  from  his  jaws,  and  so  large  as  evidently  some- 
what to  stagger  the  men  who  carried  him.  The  young 
St.  George  attacked  the  dragon  in  his  turn,  and  struck  him, 
and,  at  last  vanquishing  him,  stabbed  him  deep  in  the 
throat.   .  .  . 

The  Chariot  Race 

.  .  .  There  was  a  grand  chariot  race,  in  a  large  open 
square  of  an  oblong  form,  and  surrounded  on  all  sides  by 
handsome  houses.  At  each  corner  of  this  place  they  had 
erected  a  wooden  obelisk,  and  a  long  cord  extended  from  each 
of  these  to  the  other,  to  prevent  people  from  crossing  the 
ground;  there  were,  besides,  several  men  stationed  along 
these  ropes,  to  keep  any  person  from  getting  over  them.  The 
balconies  were  full  of  ladies;  the  grand-duke,  with  the 
duchess  and  the  court,  occupying  the  lower  balcony  of  the 
principal  houses.  The  other  spectators  were  ranged  along  the 
sides  of  the  square,  outside  the  ropes,  and  on  a  sort  of 
scaffolds,  on  one  of  which  I  got  a  place.  There  were  five 
chariots  or  cars  to  run.  They  took  their  places  by  lot,  in  a 
row,  by  one  of  the  obelisks.  It  seemed  to  be  considered  that 
the  outside  place  was  the  best,  as  giving  the  driver  the  most 
command  of  the  ground.  The  horses  started  at  the  sound  of 
a  trumpet.  The  chariot  that  had  the  lead  on  arriving  at  the 
starting-post,  in  the  third  run  round  the  course,  was  the 
winner.  The  grand-duke's  car  had  the  best  of  it  up  to  the 
commencement  of  the  third  round,  but  then  Strozzi's 
charioteer,  who  had  kept  very  close  to  the  grand-duke's^ 
urged  his  horses  to  the  utmost,  and  managed  to  get  so  nearly 
on  a  level  with  the  latter  as  to  make  the  victory  a  question 
between  them.  I  observed  that  the  populace  broke  their 
previous  silence  when  they  saw  Strozzi's  charioteer  making 
head,  and  began  shouting  and  encouraging  him  with  all  their 
might  and  main,  utterly  regardless  of  their  prince  being 
present.  And  afterwards,  when  the  dispute  as  to  the  victory 
was  referred  to  the  decision  of  the  judges  of  the  course,  those 
among  them  who  were  in  favour  of  Strozzi  having  appealed  to 
the  judgment  of  the  assembly,  there  was  raised  an  almost 
unanimous  shout  in  favour  of  Strozzi,  who  ultimately  obtained 
the   prize,  though   it   seemed   to   me  that   the  grand-duke's 


256  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

charioteer  was  really  the  winner.  The  value  of  the  prize  was 
a  hundred  crowns.  I  was  more  pleased  with  this  spectacle 
than  any  other  I  had  witnessed  in  Italy,  for  my  fancy  was 
tickled  by  its  resemblance  to  the  races  of  the  ancients. 

The  Feast  of  St.  John  ^ 

This  being  St.  John's  eve,  the  roof  of  the  cathedral  was 
surrounded  by  two  or  three  rows  of  lamps,  and  a  number  of 
rockets  were  let  off.  They  say,  however,  that  it  is  not  the 
general  custom  in  Italy,  as  in  France,  to  have  fire-works  on 
St.  John's  day.  This  festival  came  round  in  due  course,  on 
the  Sunday,  and  being,  of  all  the  saint's  days,  the  one  observed 
by  the  people  of  Florence  with  the  greatest  solemnity  and 
rejoicing,  everybody  was  from  an  early  hour  abroad  to  take 
part  in  it,  dressed  in  their  best.  I  had  thus  an  opportunity  of 
seeing  all  the  women,  old  and  young  ;  and  I  must  confess 
that  the  amount  of  beauty  at  Florence  seemed  to  me  very 
limited.  Early  in  the  morning  the  grand-duke  took  his  seat 
in  the  palace  square,  upon  a  platform  which  occupied  the 
whole  front  of  the  palace,  the  walls  of  which,  as  well  as  the 
platform,  were  hung  with  rich  tapestry.  He  was  seated  under 
a  canopy,  with  the  Pope's  nuncio  at  his  side  on  the  left,  and 
the  Ferrarese  ambassador  on  his  right,  but  not  so  near  him 
by  a  good  deal  as  the  nuncio.  Here  there  passed  before  him 
a  long  procession  of  men  in  various  guises,  emblems  of  the 
different  castles,  towns,  and  states  dependent  upon  the  arch- 
duchy of  Florence,  and  the  name  and  style  of  each,  as  its 
representative  passed,  was  announced  to  the  assembled 
multitude  by  a  herald,  who  stood  by  in  full  costume.  Repre- 
senting Siena,  for  instance,  there  came  forward  a  young  man 
habited  in  white  and  black  velvet,  bearing  in  one  hand  a  large 
silver  vase,  and  in  the  other  an  effigy  of  the  she-wolf  of  Siena. 
These  offerings  he  laid  at  the  feet  of  the  duke,  accompanying 
them  with  a  suitable  address.  When  he  had  passed  on  he 
was  followed,  in  single  file,  and  as  their  names  were  suc- 
cessively called  out,  by  a  number  of  ill-dressed  men,  mounted 
on  sorry  hacks  or  on  mules,  some  carrying  a  silver  cup, 
others  a  ragged  banner.     These  fellows,  of  whom  there  were 

1  "  The  Feast  of  St.  John,"  wrote  Hawthorne  in  1858,  "  like  the 
Carnival,  is  but  a  meagre  semblance  of  festivity,  kept  alive  factitiously,  and 
dying  a  lingering  death  of  centuries.  It  takes  the  exuberant  mind  and 
heart  of  a  people  to  keep  its  holidays  alive." 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     257 

a  great  number,  went  on  through  the  streets,  without  any  sort 
of  form  or  ceremony,  and,  indeed,  without  exhibiting  the 
sUghtest  gravity  or  even  decency  of  demeanour,  but  rather 
seeming  to  treat  the  whole  thing  as  a  jest.  They  took  their 
part  in  the  affair  as  representatives  of  the  various  castles  and 
other  places  in  immediate  dependence  upon  the  state  of 
Siena.     This  ceremonial  takes  place  every  year. 

By  and  by,  advanced  a  car,  bearing  a  great  wooden 
pyramid,  with  steps  all  up  to  it,  on  which  stood  little  boys 
dressed  in  different  fashions,  to  represent  saints  and  angels. 
The  pyramid  was  as  high  as  a  house  ;  and  at  the  top  of  it  was 
St.  John,  bound  to  an  iron  bar.  Next  after  this  car  came  the 
public  officers,  those  connected  with  the  revenue  occupying 
the  first  rank.  The  procession  was  closed  by  another  car,  on 
which  were  several  young  men  with  three  prizes,  which  were 
afterwards  run  for  in  different  sorts  of  races.  On  each  side  of 
the  car  were  the  horses  that  were  about  to  take  part  in  the 
races,  led  by  the  jockeys,  wearing  the  colours  of  their  different 
masters,  among  whom  were  some  of  the  greatest  nobles  of  the 
country.  The  horses  were  small,  but  exquisitely  formed. 
.  .  .  After  dinner,  everybody  went  to  see  the  horse-racing. 
The  Cardinal  de  Medici's  horse  won  :  the  prize  was  worth 
about  200  crowns.  This  spectacle  is  not  so  agreeable  as  the 
chariot-race,  for  it  takes  place  in  the  street,  and  all  you  see  is 
the  horses  tearing  past  where  you  stand,  at  the  top  of  their 
speed,  and  there  is  an  end  of  the  matter,  as  far  as  you  are 
concerned.  .  .  . 

On  the  preceding  Saturday  the  grand  duke's  palace  was 
thrown  open  to  all  comers,  without  exception,  and  was  crowded 
with  country  people,  who  by  and  by  nearly  all  collected  in 
the  great  hall,  where  they  fell  to  dancing.  As  I  looked  upon 
them,  it  seemed  to  my  fancy  an  image  of  a  people's  lost 
liberty— an  all  but  extinguished  light  throwing  out  a  flickering 
gleam  once  a  year,  amid  the  shows  of  a  saint's  day. — Montaigne. 

Florence  in  the  Seventeenth  Century 

Florence  is  at  the  foot  of  the  Appenines,  the  West  part 
full  of  stately  groves  and  pleasant  meadows,  beautified  with 
more  than  a  thousand  houses  and  country  palaces  of  note, 
belonging  to  gentlemen  of  the  towne.  The  river  Arno  runs 
through  this  Citty,  in  a  broad  but  very  shallow  channell, 
dividing  it,  as  it  were,  in  the  middle ;  and  over  it  are  fower 

R 


25S  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

most  sumptuous  bridges  of  stone.  On  that  nearest  to  our 
quarter  are  the  4  Seasons  in  white  marble ;  on  another  are  the 
goldsmiths  shops  ;  at  the  head  of  the  former  stands  a  column 
of  opite  on  which  is  a  statue  of  Justice  with  her  balance  and 
sword,  cut  out  of  porphyrie,  and  the  more  remarkable  for 
being  the  first  which  had  been  carved  out  of  that  hard  material, 
and  brought  to  perfection  after  the  art  had  been  utterly  lost  : 
they  say  this  was  done  by  hardening  the  tools  in  the  juice  of 
certaine  herbs.  This  statue  was  erected  in  that  corner 
because  there  Cosmo  was  first  saluted  with  the  newes  of 
Sienna  being  taken. 

The  Palaces 

Neere  this  is  the  famous  Palazzo  di  Strozzi,  a  princely 
piece  of  architecture,  in  a  rustiq  manner.  The  Palace  of  Pitti 
was  built  by  that  family,  but  of  late  greatly  beautified  by 
Cosmo  with  huge  square  stones  of  the  Doric,  Ionic,  and  the 
Corinthian  orders,  with  a  terrace  at  each  side  having  rustic 
uncut  balustrades,  with  a  fountain  that  ends  in  a  cascade  seen 
from  the  great  gate,  and  so  forming  a  vista  to  the  gardens. 
Nothing  is  more  admirable  than  the  vacant  stayrecase,  marbles, 
statues,  urnes,  pictures,  courte,  grotto,  and  waterworkes.  In 
the  quadrangle  is  a  huge  jetto  of  water  in  a  volto  of  4  faces, 
with  noble  statues  at  each  square,  especialy  the  Diana  of 
porphyrie  above  the  grotto.  We  were  here  shew'd  a  prodigious 
greate  load-stone. 

The  garden  has  every  variety,  hills,  dales,  rocks,  groves, 
aviaries,  vivaries,  fountaines,  especialy  one  of  five  jettos,  the 
middle  basin  being  one  of  the  longest  stones  I  ever  saw. 
Here  is  every  thing  to  make  such  a  paradise  delightfull.  In 
the  garden  I  saw  a  rose  grafted  on  an  orange-tree.  There 
was  much  topiary  worke,  and  columns  in  architecture  about 
the  hedges.  The  Duke  has  added  an  ample  laboratorye,  over 
against  which  stands  a  Fort  on  a  hill  where  they  told  us  his 
treasure  is  kept.  In  this  Palace  the  Duke  ordinarily  resides, 
living  with  his  Swiss  guards,  after  the  frugal  Italian  way,  and 
even  selling  what  he  can  spare  of  his  wines,  at  the  cellar 
under  his  very  house,  wicker  bottles  dangling  over  even  the 
chiefe  entrance  into  the  Palace,  serving  for  a  vintner's  bush. 

In  the  church  of  Santo  Spirito  the  altar  and  reliquary  are 
most  rich,  full  of  precious  stones  ;  there  are  4  pillars  of  a 
kind  of  serpentine,  and  some  of  blue.     Hence  we  went  to 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     259 

another  Palace  of  the  Duke's,  called  Palazzo  Vecchio,  before 
which  is  a  statue  of  David  by  Michael  Angelo,  and  one  of 
Hercules  killing  Cacus,  the  work  of  Baccio  Bandinelli.  The 
quadrangle  about  this  is  of  the  Corinthian  order,  and  in  the 
hall  are  many  rare  marbles,  as  those  of  Leo  the  Tenth  and 
Clement  VII.  both  Popes  of  the  Medicean  family ;  also  the 
acts  of  Cosmo  in  rare  painting.  In  the  Chapell  is  kept  (as 
they  would  make  one  believe)  the  original  Gospel  of  St.  John, 
written  with  his  owne  hand ;  and  the  famous  Florentine  Pan- 
dects, and  divers  precious  stones.  Neere  it  is  another  pen- 
dant Towre  like  that  at  Pisa,  always  threatening  ruine. 

Works  of  Art 

Under  the  Court  of  Justice  is  a  stately  Arcade  for  men  to 
walke  in,  and  over  that  the  shops  of  divers  rare  artists  who 
continualy  worke  for  the  greate  Duke.  Above  this  is  that 
renowned  Ceimeliarcha,  or  Repository,  wherein  are  hundreds 
of  admirable  antiquities,  statues  of  marble  and  mettal,  vases 
of  porphyrie,  etc. ;  but  amongst  the  statues  none  so  famous 
as  the  Scipio,  Boare,  the  Idol  of  Apollo  brought  from  the 
Delphic  Temple,  and  two  triumphant  columnes.  Over  these 
hang  the  pictures  of  the  most  famous  persons  and  illustrious 
men  in  arts  or  armes,  to  the  number  of  300,  taken  out  of  the 
Museum  of  Paulus  Jovius.  They  then  led  us  into  a  large 
square  roome  in  the  middle  of  which  stood  a  Cabinet  of  an 
octangular  forme,  so  adorn'd  and  furnish'd  with  christals, 
achat,  sculptures,  etc.,  as  exceeds  any  description.  This 
cabinet  is  called  the  Trihina,  and  in  it  is  a  pearle  as  big 
as  a  hazale  nut.  The  cabinet  is  of  ebonie,  lazuli,  and  jasper ; 
over  the  door  is  a  round  of  M.  Angelo ;  in  the  cabinet,  Leo 
the  Tenth,  with  other  paintings  of  Raphael,  del  Sarto,  Perugino, 
and  Correggio,  viz.  a  St.  John,  a  Virgin,  a  Boy,  2  Apostles, 
2  Heads  of  Durer  rarely  carved.  Over  this  cabinet  is  a  Globe 
of  ivory,  excellently  carved  ;  the  Labours  of  Hercules  in  massy 
silver,  and  many  incomparable  pictures  in  small.  There  is 
another,  which  had  about  it  8  oriental  columns  of  alabaster, 
on  each  whereof  was  placed  a  head  of  a  Caesar,  cover'd  with  a 
canopy  so  richly  set  with  precious  stones  that  they  resembled 
a  firmament  of  Starrs.  Within  it  was  our  Saviour's  Passion 
and  12  Apostles  in  amber.  This  cabinet  was  valued  at  two 
hundred  thousand  crownes.  In  another,  with  Calcidon  pillars, 
was  a  series  of  golden  medaills.     Here  is  also  another  rich 


26o  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

ebony  Cabinet  cupola'd  with  a  tortoise-shell  and  containing 
a  collection  of  gold  medaills  esteem'd  worth  50,000  crownes; 
a  wreathed  pillar  of  oriental  alabaster,  divers  paintings  of  Da 
Vinci,  Pontorno,  del  Sarto,  an  Ecce  Homo  of  Titian,  a  Boy  of 
Bronzini,  etc.  They  shew'd  us  a  branch  of  corall  fixed  on  the 
rock  which  they  affirme  dos  still  grow.  In  another  roome  is 
kept  the  Tabernacle  appointed  for  the  Chapel  of  St.  Lawrence, 
about  which  are  placed  small  statues  of  Saints,  of  precious 
materials ;  a  piece  of  such  art  and  cost,  that,  having  been 
these  40  years  in  perfecting,  it  is  one  of  the  most  curious 
things  in  the  world.  Here  were  divers  tables  of  Pietra 
Comessa,  which  is  a  marble  ground  inlay'd  with  severall  sorts 
of  marbles  and  stones  of  various  colours,  representing  flowers, 
trees,  beasts,  birds,  and  landskips.  In  one  is  represented 
the  town  of  Ligorne  by  the  same  hand  who  inlay'd  the  altar 
of  St.  Lawrence,  Domenico  Benotti.  I  purchased  of  him 
19  pieces  of  the  same  worke  for  a  cabinet.  In  a  presse  neere 
this  they  shew'd  an  yron  nayle,  one  halfe  whereof  being  con- 
verted into  gold  by  one  Thornheuser,  a  German  chymist,  is 
look'd  on  as  a  greate  rarity,  but  it  plainly  appeared  to  have 
been  soldered  together.  There  is  a  curious  watch,  a  mon- 
strous turquoise  as  big  as  an  egg,  on  which  is  carved  an 
emperor's  head. 

In  the  Armory  are  kept  many  antiq  habits,  as  those  of 
Chinese  kings ;  the  sword  of  Charlemain ;  Hannibal's  head- 
piece; a  loadstone  of  a  yard  long,  which  bears  up  86  lbs. 
weight,  in  a  chaine  of  17  links,  such  as  the  slaves  are  tied  to. 
In  another  roome  are  such  rare  tourneries  in  ivory  as  are  not 
to  be  described  for  their  curiosity.  There  is  a  faire  pillar  of 
oriental  alabaster ;  1 2  vast  and  compleate  services  of  silver 
plate,  and  one  of  gold,  all  of  excellent  workmanship ;  a  rich 
embrodred  saddle  of  pearls  sent  by  the  Emperor  to  this  Duke  ; 
and  here  is  that  embrodred  chaire  set  with  precious  stones  in 
which  he  sits,  when,  on  St.  John's  Day,  he  receives  the  tribute 
of  the  Citties.  .  .  . 

Loggia  de'  Lanzi 

We  went  to  the  Portico  where  the  famous  statues  of 
Judith  and  Holofernes  stand,  also  the  Medusa,  all  of  copper ; 
but  what  is  most  admirable  is  the  Rape  of  a  Sabine  with 
another  man  under  foot,  the  confusion  and  turning  of  whose 
limbs  is  most  admirable.  It  is  of  one  entire  marble,  the 
worke  of  John  di    Bologna,  and   is  most  stupendous;    this 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     261 

stands  directly  against  the  greate  Piazza,  where,  to  adorne  one 
fountaine,  are  erected  four  marble  statues  and  eight  of  brasse, 
representing  Neptune  and  his  family  of  sea-gods,  of  a  Colossean 
magnitude,  with  four  sea-horses  in  Parian  marble  of  Lamedrati ; 
this  is  in  the  midst  of  a  very  great  basin,  a  work,  I  think, 
hardly  to  be  parallel'd.  Here  is  also  the  famous  statue  of 
David  by  M.  Angelo ;  Hercules  and  Cacus  by  Baccio  Bandi- 
nelli;  the  Perseus  in  copper  by  Benevento,  and  the  Judith  of 
Donatelli,  which  stand  publickly  before  the  old  palace  with 
the  Centaur  of  Bologna,  huge  Colossean  figures.  Neere  this 
stands  Cosmo  di  Medici  on  horseback,  in  brasse  on  a  pedistal 
of  marble,  and  four  copper  bass  relievos  by  John  di  Bologna, 
with  divers  inscriptions;  the  Ferdinand  the  First  on  horse- 
back is  of  Pietro  Tacca.  The  brazen  Boare  which  serves  for 
another  publiq  fountaine  is  admirable. 

The  Annunciata;  The  Riding  School 

After  dinner,  we  went  to  the  church  of  Annunciata,  where 
the  Duke  and  his  Court  were  at  their  devotions,  being  a  place 
of  extraordinary  repute  for  sanctity ;  for  here  is  a  shrine  that 
does  great  miracles,  [proved]  by  innumerable  votive  tablets, 
etc.,  covering  almost  the  walls  of  the  whole  church.  This  is 
the  image  of  Gabriel  who  saluted  the  Blessed  Virgin,  and 
which  the  artist  finished  so  well  that  he  was  in  despair  of 
performing  the  Virgin's  face,  whereupon  it  was  miraculously 
done  for  him  whilst  he  slept ;  but  others  say  it  was  painted 
by  St.  Luke  himself.  Whoever  it  was,  infinite  is  the  devotion 
of  both  sexes  to  it.  The  altar  is  set  off  with  four  columns  of 
oriental  alabaster,  and  lighted  by  thirty  great  silver  lamps. 
There  are  innumerable  other  pictures  by  rare  masters.  Our 
Saviour's  passion  in  brasse  tables  inserted  in  marble  is  the 
work  of  John  di  Bologna  and  Baccio  Bandinelli.   .  .  . 

At  the  Duke's  Cavalerizzo,  the  Prince  has  a  stable  of  the 
finest  horses  of  all  countries,  Arabs,  Turks,  Barbs,  Gennets, 
English,  etc.,  which  are  continually  exercised  in  the  manege. 
Near  this  is  a  place  where  are  kept  several  wild  beasts,  as 
wolves,  catts,  beares,  tygers,  and  lions.  They  are  loose  in 
a  deep  walled  court,  and  therefore  to  be  scene  with  more 
pleasure  than  at  the  Tower  of  London,  in  their  grates. — 
Evelyn. 


262  THE   BOOK  OF  ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


Florence  in  the  Eighteenth  Century 

Our  Florentines  have  nothing  on  earth  to  do ;  yet  a  dozen 
fellows  crying  ciamhelli,  little  cakes,  about  the  square,  assisted 
by  beggars,  who  lie  upon  the  church  steps,  and  pray  or  rather 
promise  to  pray  as  loud  as  their  lungs  will  let  them,  for  the 
anime  sante  di purgatorio  ;  ballad-singers  meantime  endeavour- 
ing to  drown  these  clamours  in  their  own,  and  gentlemen's 
servants  disputing  at  the  doors,  whose  master  shall  be  first 
served  ;  ripping  up  the  pedigrees  of  each  to  prove  superior 
claims  for  a  biscuit  or  macaroon  ;  do  make  such  an  intolerable 
clatter  among  them,  that  one  cannot,  for  one's  life,  hear  one 
another  speak  :  and  I  did  say  just  now,  that  it  were  as  good 
live  at  Brest  or  Portsmouth  when  the  rival  fleets  were  fitting 
out,  as  here ;  where  real  tranquillity  subsists  under  a  bustle 
merely  imaginary. 

The  Grand  Duke 

Our  Grand  Duke  lives  with  little  state  for  aught  I  can 
observe  here  ;  but  where  there  is  least  pomp,  there  is  commonly 
most  power.  .  .  .  He  tells  his  subjects  when  to  go  to  bed, 
and  who  to  dance  with,  till  the  hour  he  chooses  they  should 
retire  to  rest,  with  exactly  that  sort  of  old-fashioned  paternal 
authority  that  fathers  used  to  exercise  over  their  families  in 
England  before  commerce  had  run  her  levelling  plough  over 
all  ranks,  and  annihilated  even  the  name  of  subordination. 
If  he  hear  of  any  person  living  long  in  Florence  without  being 
able  to  give  a  good  account  of  his  business  there,  the  Duke 
warns  him  to  go  away  ;  and  if  he  loiter  after  such  warning 
given,  sends  him  out.  Does  any  nobleman  shine  in  pompous 
equipage  or  splendid  table  ;  the  Grand  Duke  enquires  soon 
into  his  pretensions,  and  scruples  not  to  give  personal  advice 
and  add  grave  reproofs  with  regard  to  the  management  of 
each  individual's  private  affairs,  the  establishment  of  their 
sons,  the  marriage  of  their  sisters,  etc.  When  they  appeared 
to  complain  of  this  behaviour  to  me,  I  know  not,  replied  I, 
what  to  answer :  one  has  always  read  and  heard  that  the 
Sovereigns  ought  to  behave  in  despotic  governments  like  the 
fathers  of  their  family.  ..."  Yes,  Madam,"  replied  one  of 
my  auditors,  with  an  acuteness  truly  Italian,  "  but  this  Prince 
is  QXiiX  father-in-law^^  .  .  . 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     263 


Rustic  Pictures 

I  have  been  out  to  dinner  in  the  country  near  Prato,  and 
what  a  charming,  what  a  dehghtful  thing  is  a  nobleman's  seat 
near  Florence  !  How  cheerful  the  society  !  How  splendid 
the  climate  !  how  wonderful  the  prospects  in  this  glorious 
country !  The  Arno  rolling  before  his  house,  the  Apennines 
rising  behind  it !  a  sight  of  fertility  enjoyed  by  its  inhabitants, 
and  a  view  of  such  defences  to  their  property  as  nature  alone 
can  bestow.  A  peasantry  so  rich  too,  that  the  wives  and 
daughters  of  the  farmer  go  dressed  in  jewels ;  and  those  of 
no  small  value.  A  pair  of  one-drop  ear-rings,  a  broadish 
necklace,  with  a  long  piece  hanging  down  the  bosom,  and 
terminated  with  the  cross,  all  of  set  garnets  clear  and  perfect, 
is  a  common,  a  very  common  treasure  to  the  females  about 
this  country;  and  on  every  Sunday  or  holiday,  when  they 
dress  and  mean  to  look  pretty,  their  elegantly-disposed 
ornaments  attract  attention  strongly ;  though  I  do  not  think 
them  as  handsome  as  the  Lombard  lasses,  and  our  Venetian 
friends  protest  that  the  farmers  at  Crema  in  their  state  are 
still  richer. 

La  Contadinella  Toscana,  however,  in  a  very  rich  white 
silk  petticoat,  exceedingly  full  and  short,  to  shew  her  neat 
pink  slipper  and  pretty  ankle,  her  pink  corps  de  robes  and 
straps,  with  white  silk  lacing  down  the  stomacher,  puffed  shift 
sleeves,  with  heavy  lace  robbins  ending  at  the  elbow  and 
fastened  at  the  shoulders  with  at  least  eight  or  nine  bows  of 
narrow  pink  ribbon,  a  lawn  handkerchief  trimmed  with  broad 
lace,  put  on  somewhat  coquettishly,  and  finishing  in  front 
with  a  nosegay,  must  make  a  lovely  figure  at  any  rate  ;  though 
the  hair  is  drawn  away  from  the  face  in  a  way  rather  too  tight 
to  be  becoming,  under  a  red  velvet  cushion  edged  with  gold, 
which  helps  to  bear  it  off  I  think,  but  gives  the  small  Leghorn 
hat,  lined  with  green,  a  pretty  perking  air,  which  is  infinitely 
nymphish  and  smart. — Mrs.  Fiozzi. 

A  Thought  From  Goethe 

In  the  city  we  see  the  proof  of  the  prosperity  of  the 
generations  who  built  it ;  the  conviction  is  at  once  forced 
upon  us  that  they  must  have  enjoyed  a  long  succession  of 
wise  rulers.     But  above  all  one  is  struck  with  the  beauty  and 


264  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

grandeur  which  distinguish  all  the  public  works  and  roads 
and  bridges  in  Tuscany.  Everything  here  is  at  once  sub- 
stantial and  clean ;  use  and  profit  not  less  than  elegance  are 
alike  kept  in  view ;  everywhere  we  discern  traces  of  the  care 
which  is  taken  to  preserve  them.  The  cities  of  the  Papal 
States  on  the  contrary  only  seem  to  stand,  because  the  earth 
is  unwilling  to  swallow  them  up. — -Goethe. 


FLORENTINE   LIFE 

Dante  in  Florence 

At  first  we  cannot  trace  the  Florence  Dante  knew.  Nothing 
is  less  like  the  thirteenth-century  Tuscan  than  the  Tuscan  of 
to-day :  the  powerful  character,  the  wild  and  deep  passion 
have  given  place  to  peaceable  habits  and  gentle  manners. 
A  life  of  adventure,  peril,  and  hate  has  been  followed  by 
pleasant  indolence ;  we  find  nothing  here  of  the  concentrated 
violence  of  the  Roman  nature.  Even  the  peasants  of  the 
neighbourhood  of  Florence  have  a  certain  elegance  and  sweet- 
ness of  speech  and  address.  The  old  mediaeval  Tuscan  type 
was  gradually  effaced  by  the  hand  of  the  Medici ;  the  care 
of  Leopold  has  succeeded  in  softening  its  last  inequalities. 

Thus  too  is  it  with  the  aspect  of  Florence.  At  our  first 
glance  it  seems  quite  modern.  The  main  buildings  them- 
selves— the  old  strongholds  which,  like  the  Strozzi  palace, 
make  the  streets  dark  beneath  their  dark  and  crenellated 
masses — are  of  a  more  recent  date  than  that  of  Dante.  The 
cathedral  was  scarcely  begun  in  his  time  ;  and  it  took  i66 
years'  work  and  the  crowning  gift  of  Brunelleschi  to  complete 
it.  The  only  monument  actually  existing  in  Dante's  time  was 
the  handsome  Baptistery  he  loved  so  well  and  mentions  as 

"  II  mio  bel  San  Giovanni." 

Nevertheless,  here  and  there,  a  few  names  or  relics  bring 
to  mind  Florence  in  the  fourteenth  century.  By  a  fortunate 
chance  there  stood  opposite  to  my  window  a  wall  with  the 
funeral  scutcheon  of  Charles  of  Valois — ih&fleur  de  lis,  which 
for  Dante  was  the  symbol  of  proscription  and  exile,  and  which 
now  is  itself  exiled  and  proscribed.  If  we  look  carefully,  little 
by  little  we  find  the  older  Florence  in  the  heart  of  the  newer 
town.  We  may  see  a  modern  building  grow  above  an  ancient 
sub-structure  ;  and  French  windows  with  green  blinds  above  a 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     265 

wall  of  enormous  black  stones  hewn  diamond-wise.  Here 
then  are  two  epochs,  one  above  another,  just  as  on  the 
Appian  way  the  hovels  of  the  rustics  rise  above  the  tombs  of 
the  ancient  Romans. 

The  names  of  the  streets  take  us  back  to  Dante;  often 
enough  they  belong  to  the  persons  or  the  families  who  are 
part  of  his  poem.  We  find  the  street  of  the  Blacks,  the 
crucifix  of  the  Whites,  the  street  of  the  Ghibellines  or  of  the 
Guelfs.  As  we  cross  these  streets  with  their  historic  names, 
we  can  fancy  that  we  shall  run  up  against  Farinata,  Caval- 
canti,  or  even  Alighieri  himself.  The  part  of  Florence  where 
Dantesque  recollections  are  centred  is  in  the  neighbourhood 
of  the  Cathedral  and  the  Baptistery.  Among  the  numerous 
square  towers  which  here  and  there  rise  above  the  Florentine 
houses,  there  is  one  called  the  Tower  of  Dante.  The  stone 
of  Dante,  sasso  di  Dante,  is  not  now  to  be  found,  but  an  in- 
scription cut  on  a  marble  slab  keeps  alive  the  memory  of  this 
memory — the  tradition  of  a  tradition. 

Finally,  not  far  from  here  stands  even  to-day  the  Portinari 
palace,^  where  there  dwelt  once  a  little  girl  who  received  the 
childish  name  of  Bice.  The  youthful  Dante,  a  lad  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood, used  to  play  with  the  child  of  the  Portinari  house, 
and  for  him  thenceforward  began  that  new  life  which  he  has 
so  eloquently  told ;  and  there,  in  the  soul  of  nine  years'  age, 
was  sown  the  seed  which  was  in  later  days  to  produce  the 
immense  poem  devoted  to  the  immortalisation  of  Beatrice. — 
Amplre. 

The  Misericordia 

There  is  a  society  here,  called  the  Misericordia  Society, 
of  which  I  have  heard  the  following  account,  but  do  not  know 
if  it  is  accurate.  It  is  composed  of  men  of  the  highest  rank, 
whose  business  it  is,  in  case  of  accident  or  sudden  death,  to 
assemble  at  the  sound  of  a  bell,  and  render  what  assistance 
may  be  necessary.  That  there  may  be  no  personal  ostentation, 
they  wear  black  masks.  I  met  about  a  dozen  of  them  the 
other  day  bearing  a  dead  body  through  the  streets.  They 
were  all  dressed  in  black  dominos,  and,  as  it  rained,  in  very 

1  Ampere  omits  to  mention  the  house  (now  absolutely  renovated)  in 
which  Dante  was  born.  According  to  Mr.  W.  D.  Howells  {Tuscan 
Cities),  Dante  was  married  in  the  small  church  of  San  Martino  near  by  ; 
but  this  church  is  only  a  chapel  of  the  former  San  Martino  (see  Walks  in 
Florence,  by  the  Misses  Horner,  vol.  i.  p.  252,  ed.  1884). 


266  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

broad  slouched  hats.  They  never  spoke,  and  reheved  one 
another  in  carrying  with  great  dexterity  and  quickness.  Their 
step  struck  me  as  unusually  majestic,  probably  from  their 
dress,  and  the  solemnity  of  their  occupations.  It  was  a  very 
imposing  sight.  I  am  told  that  sometimes  the  Grand  Duke 
himself  goes  out  and  assists. —  Walker. 

Gaming  and  Sports  in  1630 

It  is  the  custom  here  in  winter,  to  invite  the  chief  ladies  of 
the  town  (married  women  only  ^)  to  come  to  play  at  cards  in 
winter  evenings  for  three  or  four  hours'  space ;  and  this  one 
night  in  one  palace,  another  night  in  another  palace.  Thither 
the  ladies  go,  and  find  the  house  open  to  all  comers  and 
goers,  both  ladies  and  gentlemen,  that  are  of  any  garb.  In 
every  chamber  the  doors  are  set  open,  and  for  the  most  part 
you  shall  see  eight,  or  ten  chambers  on  a  floor,  going  out  of 
one  another,  with  a  square  table  holding  eight  persons,  as 
many  chairs,  two  silver  candlesticks  with  wax-lights  in  them, 
and  store  of  lights  round  about  the  room.  At  the  hour 
appointed,  company  being  come,  they  sit  down  to  play,  a 
cavalier  sitting  between  every  lady,  and  all  the  women  as  fine 
in  cloths  and  jewels,  as  if  they  were  going  to  a  ball.  The 
doors  of  all  these  rooms  being  open,  the  light  great,  the 
women  glittering,  and  all  glorious,  you  would  take  these 
palaces  to  be  the  enchanted  palaces  of  the  Old  King  of  the 
Mountain.  Any  gentlemen  may  come  into  the  palaces  and 
stand  between  the  gamesters,  and  see  both  how  modestly 
they  play,  and  how  little  they  play  for.  .  .  . 

The  Florentines  enjoying  by  the  goodness  and  wisdom  of 
their  excellent  Prince,  the  fruits  of  peace,  have  many  other 
recreations,  where  the  people  pass  their  time  cheerfully,  and 
think  not  of  rebellion  by  muttering  in  corners.  For  this 
reason,  both  in  winter  and  summer  they  have  their  several 
divertisements.  In  winter  their  Giuco  di  Calcio  (a  play 
something  like  our  football,  but  that  they  play  with  their 
hands)  every  night  from  the  Epiphany  till  Lent.  .  .  .  Besides 
these  pastimes,  they  have  once  a  week,  dancing  at  the  Court 
from  Twelfth  Day  till  Lent,  at  which  balls,  all  the  ladies  of 
the  town  are  invited,  to  the  number  sometimes  of  two  hundred, 

1  Southern  customs  have  not  changed,  and  it  needs  no  particular 
reference  to  our  own  literature  to  prove  that  maids  as  well  as  wives  were 
always  included  in  northern  junketings. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     267 

and  these  all  married  women,  and  all  invited  by  a  particular 
ticket.  Then  their  several  Opera's  or  musical  Dramata  acted 
and  sung  with  rare  cost  and  art.  Lastly,  their  public  running 
at  the  ring,  or  at  the  fauchin,  for  a  piece  of  plate.  And  in 
summer,  they  have  their  several  dancing  days,  and  their 
frequent  corsi  di palio  upon  certain  known  days  and  for  known 
prizes. — Lassels. 

The  Tuscan  Dialect 

As  for  the  language  of  Florence,  it's  pure,  but  in  their 
books,  not  in  their  throats  :  they  do  so  choak  it  in  the  throat 
that  it's  almost  quite  drowned  there.  Nor  doth  it  recover 
itself  again  till  it  come  to  Rome,  where  Lingua  Toscana  in 
bocca  Romana  is  a  most  sweet  language. — Lassels. 

Religious  Ceremonial  ^ 

The  most  unaccountable  scene,  while  we  were  abroad, 
was  the  Resurrection  of  Christ,  which  we  saw  performed  at 
Florence,  on  Easter-Eve.  There  was  set  up  before  the  door 
of  the  Cathedral  an  artificial  sepulchre,  filled  with  rockets, 
squibs  and  crackers,  which  have  trains  communicated  one  to 
another.  From  this  sepulchre  there  goes  a  line,  through  the 
body  of  the  church,  to  the  altar,  on  which  there  is  placed  an 
artificial  pigeon,  of  combustible  matter,  designed  to  represen 
the  Holy  Ghost.  The  Archbishop  with  his  clergy  performed 
the  function  for  the  day,  with  great  solemnity,  being  seated  on 
the  side  of  the  altar,  under  stately  canopies  of  velvet  and 
cloth  of  gold.  When  they  come  to  the  hallelujas,  at  the  end 
of  the  music,  which  is  very  fine,  both  vocal  and  instrumental, 
they  all  give  a  hideous  shout,  then  a  man  sets  fire  to  the  com- 
bustible pigeon  at  the  altar,  which  runs  along  the  line  to  the 
sepulchre  without  doors,  and  blows  it  up  into  the  air.  All 
this  was  performed  with  music,  drums,  trumpets,  ringing  of 
bells,  and  firing  of  the  great  guns  :  meanwhile  the  fiery  pigeon 
returns  back  to  the  altar  and  the  people  fall  on  their  faces  to 
worship. — S.   Whatley. 

1  L'Abbe  Richard  thought  the  Florentines  less  superstitious  than  other 
Italians,  but  they  certainly  had  some  of  the  ceremonies  which  are  best 
represented  at  Rome. 


268  THE   BOOK  OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


Receptions  in  1740 

The  luxury  of  the  Florentines  in  their  equipages  is  some- 
thing astonishing,  as  it  is  likewise  in  their  furniture  and  dress. 
Every  night  we  have  attended  evening  parties  in  different 
houses,  of  which  the  apartments  are  quite  labyrinthine.  These 
assemblies  are  composed  of  some  three  hundred  or  more 
ladies,  covered  with  diamonds,  and  five  hundred  men,  wear- 
ing dresses  which  the  Due  de  Richelieu  would  scarce  dare 
to  wear.  I  much  enjoy  these  gatherings  of  from  eight  to  nine 
hundred  people  ;  when  there  are  more  it  becomes  a  mob  ;  but, 
seriously,  I  cannot  understand  how  such  crowding  can  be 
a  pleasure  to  any  one.  As  to  the  dresses,  we  are  told  that 
these  rich  costumes  are  only  worn  on  state  occasions,  and 
last  a  lifetime,  and  that  all  this  splendour,  these  balls  and 
assemblies,  and  illuminated  gatherings  at  which  we  assisted, 
were  given  to  celebrate  society  weddings,  that  had  brought 
all  the  town  together,  and  where  the  ceremonial  is  of  great 
length.  These  conversazioni  are  a  matter  of  much  expense 
to  those  who  give  them,  on  account  of  the  vast  quantity  of 
candles  burnt,  and  the  immense  amount  of  ices  and  confec- 
tions that  are  handed  round  during  the  evening.  There  is 
dancing,  and  likewise  music. — De  Brasses. 

An  Improvisatrice  in  1785 

We  are  called  away  to  hear  the  fair  Fantastici,  a  young 
woman  who  makes  improviso  verses,  and  sings  them,  as  they 
tell  me,  with  infinite  learning  and  taste.  She  is  successor  to 
the  celebrated  Gorilla,  who  no  longer  exhibits  the  power 
she  once  held  without  a  rival;  yet  to  her  conversations 
every  one  still  strives  for  admission,  though  she  is  now  ill, 
and  old,  and  hoarse  with  repeated  colds.  She  spares,  how- 
ever, now  by  no  labour  or  fatigue  to  obtain  and  keep  that 
superiority  and  admiration  which  one  day  perhaps  gave  her 
almost  equal  trouble  to  receive  and  to  repay.  .  .  .  Gorilla, 
without  pretensions  either  to  immaculate  character  (in  the 
English  sense),  deep  erudition,  or  high  birth,  which  an  Italian 
esteems  above  all  earthly  things,  has  so  made  her  way  in  the 
world,  that  all  the  nobility  of  both  sexes  crowd  to  her  house ; 
that  no  Prince  passes  through  Florence  without  waiting  on 
Gorilla;  that  the  Gapitol  will  long  recollect  her  being  crowned 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     269 

there,  and  that  many  sovereigns  have  not  only  sought  her 
company,  but  have  been  obHged  to  put  up  with  sHghts  from 
her  independent  spirit,  and  from  her  airy,  rather^than  haughty 
behaviour. — Mrs.  Piozzi. 


Street  Improvisation 

In  attending  to  the  ItaHan  improvisator!,  I  began  to  find 
out,  or  perhaps  only  to  fancy,  several  points  in  which  they 
resemble  their  great  predecessor  Homer.  In  both  may  be 
remarked  the  same  openness  of  style  and  simplicity  of  con- 
struction, the  same  digressions,  rests,  repetitions,  anomalies. 
Homer  has  often  recourse  to  shifts  of  the  moment,  like  other 
improvisator!.  Like  them  he  betrays  great  inequalities. 
Sometimes  when  his  speech  is  lengthening  into  detail,  he  cuts 
it  short  and  concludes.  Sometimes  when  the  interest  and 
difficulty  thicken,  the  poet  escapes,  like  his  heroes,  in  a  cloud. 
I  once  thought  of  Homer  in  the  streets  of  Florence,  where  I 
once  saw  a  poor  cyclic  bard  most  cruelly  perplexed  in  a  tale  of 
chivalry.  He  wished  to  unravel ;  but  every  stanza  gave  a  new 
twist  to  his  plot.  His  hearers  seemed  impatient  for  the 
denouement,  but  still  the  confusion  increased.  At  last,  seeing 
no  other  means  of  escape,  he  vented  his  poetical  fury  on  the 
skin  of  his  tambourine,  and  went  off  with  a  ?naledetto. — 
Forsyth. 

ARCHITECTURE  AND  ART 

Palazzo  Vecchio 

Our  first  visit  of  all  is  to  the  Piazza  della  Signoria ;  here, 
as  at  Siena,  it  was  the  centre  of  Republican  life  \  here,  too, 
the  old  town-hall,  the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  is  a  structure  of  the 
middle  ages,  an  enormous  block  of  stone,  pierced  with  trefoiled 
windows  here  and  there,  with  a  heavy  battlement  of  machi- 
colations, and  on  one  side  a  lofty  battlemented  tower.  It  is 
the  veriest  civic  fortress,  useful  for  warfare  or  for  observation, 
a  safeguard  wlien  near,  a  beacon  from  afar,  in  a  word,  the 
town's  suit  of  armour  with  its  visible  crest.  We  cannot  look 
at  it  without  thinking  of  the  intestine  warfare  described  by 
Dino  Compagni.  They  were  rough  times  in  Italy  were  the 
middle  ages ;  in  France  we  had  the  war  of  castles,  in  Italy  it 
was  one  in  the  streets.     For  thirty-three  years  in  succession 


270  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  Buondelmonti  with  forty-four  families  supporting  them 
were  fighting  the  Uberti  with  twenty-two.  They  barricaded 
the  streets  with  chevaux  dc  pise ;  the  houses  were  fortified  ; 
and  the  nobility  brought  their  armed  retainers  in  from  the 
countryside.  Finally,  thirty-six  houses  belonging  to  the 
beaten  side  were  rased  to  the  ground,  and  if  the  town-hall  is 
irregularly  built,  it  is  because  an  implacable  vengeance  insisted 
on  the  architect's  leaving  bare  the  accursed  sites  on  which  the 
houses  destroyed  had  once  stood.  —  Taine} 

Palazzo  Vecchio  (Interior) 

In  the  midst  of  the  city — in  the  Piazza  of  the  Grand  Duke, 

adorned  with  beautiful  statues  and  the  Fountain  of  Neptune — 

rises    the    Palazzo  Vecchio,  with  its   enormous    overhanging 

battlements,  and  the  Great  Tower  that  watches  over  the  whole 

town.     In  its  court-yard — worthy  of  the  Castle  of  Otranto  in 

its  ponderous  gloom — is  a  massive  staircase  that  the  heaviest 

waggon  and  the  stoutest  team  of  horses  might  be  driven  up. 

Within  it,  is  a  Great  Saloon,  faded  and  tarnished  in  its  stately 

decorations,  and  mouldering  by  grains,  but  recording  yet,  in 

pictures  on  its  walls,  the  triumphs  of  the  Medici-  and  the 

wars  of  the  old  Florentine  people.     The  prison  is  hard  by,  in 

an  adjacent  court-yard  of  the  building — a  foul  and  dismal 

place,  where  some  men  are  shut  up  close,  in  small  cells  like 

ovens ;  and  where  others  look  through  bars  and  beg ;   where 

some  are  playing  draughts,   and   some  are   talking  to  their 

friends,  who  smoke,  the  while,  to  purify  the  air ;   and  some 

are  buying  wine  and  fruit  of  women-vendors  ;    and  all  are 

squalid,  dirty,  and  vile  to  look  at.     "  They  are  merry  enough, 

Signore,"  says  the  Jailer.     "They  are  all  blood-stained  here," 

he  adds,  indicating,  with  his  hand,  three-fourths  of  the  whole 

1  We  may  note  from  Horner's  Walks  in  Florence  that  there  was 
formerly  a  rhighiera,  or  rostrum,  in  front  of  the  Palazzo  Vecchio.  This 
rostrum  is  shown  in  the  San  Marco  picture  of  Savonarola's  execution,  and 
remained  in  place  till  Napoleon's  time.  It  was  on  the  northern  angle  of 
the  ringhiera  that  the  Marzocco,  or  Lion  of  Florence,  originally  was  placed. 
As  Evelyn  tells  us  above,  Michael  Angelo's  David  (now  in  the  Accademia) 
used  to  stand  opposite  the  ringhiera,  on  the  left  of  the  entrance. 

2  The  palace  itself  contains  no  other  indication  of  its  tenancy  by  the 
Grand  Dukes,  but  the  statue  of  Cosimo  I.  by  Giovanni  da  Bologna  still 
stands  in  the  Piazza  della  Signoria,  formerly  called,  during  the  interval  of 
ducal  rule,  the  Piazza  del  Gran  Duca.  The  Renaissance  works  of 
sculpture  in  the  court  of  the  palace  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  original 
intention  of  the  building. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     271 

building.  Before  the  hour  is  out,  an  old  man,  eighty  years  of 
age,  quarreUing  over  a  bargain  with  a  young  girl  of  seventeen, 
stabs  her  dead,  in  the  market-place  full  of  bright  flowers,  and 
is  brought  in  prisoner,  to  swell  the  number. — Dicketis. 

Loggia  de'  Lanzi 

On  the  right  hand,  facing  the  Palazzo  Vecchio,  are  three 
arcades  or  porticoes,  entered  by  five  or  six  broad  steps,  noble 
in  size,  harmonious  in  proportion,  and  tasteful  in  decoration. 
They  were  erected  by  Orcagna,  in  1375,  for  the  transaction  of 
public  business,  and  served  at  once  as  a  town-hall  and  an 
exchange.  Here  the  magistrates  were  inducted  into  ofifice, 
and  here  the  democracy  of  Florence  were  harangued  by  their 
orators.  Under  the  Medici,  this  spacious  loggia  was  degraded 
into  a  lounging-place  for  the  troop  of  mercenary  Swiss  and 
Germans,  who  were  raised  by  Cosmo  I.  to  give  splendour  to 
his  state  and  security  to  his  power.  These  arcades  now  shelter 
a  silent  company  of  statues.  Conspicuous  among  them  is  the 
Perseus  of  the  fiery-hearted  Cellini,  not  more  known  from  its 
own  merits  than  from  the  graphic  account  of  its  casting, 
which  the  artist  gives  in  those  memoirs  of  his,  which  are 
written  with  as  much  fire  and  fervour  as  if  he  had  dipped  his 
pen  in  the  melted  bronze.  The  figure  is  erect,  holding  aloft 
the  head  of  Medusa,  and  trampling  on  the  misshapen  monster 
at  his  feet.  Some  critics  object  to  the  form  as  too  robust 
and  to  the  attitude  as  wanting  in  simplicity,  but  no  one  ever 
denied  it  breathing  life.  Corresponding  to  this  is  a  group  in 
marble,  by  John  of  Bologna,  a  young  man  holding  a  maiden 
in  his  arms,  with  an  old  man  at  his  feet,  which,  for  want  of 
a  better  name,  is  called  the  Rape  of  the  Sabines.  It  is  a 
daring  and  successful  effort,  to  put  such  a  conception  into 
marble,  and  shows  at  once  the  artist's  powers,  and  his  confid- 
ence in  them  ;  but  there  is  something  strained,  violent  and 
unnatural  in  the  whole  composition,  and  the  eye  grows  weary 
in  gazing  at  such  overtasked  muscles.  Judith  slaying  Holo- 
fernes,  a  group  in  bronze  by  Donatello,  suffers  by  its  proximity. 
It  is  of  the  natural  size,  while  its  neighbours  are  colossal,  and 
it  has  more  the  air  of  an  actress  playing  the  part  of  Judith 
than  of  Judith  herself. — G.  S.  Hillard. 


272  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


The  Dante  Portrait  in  the  Bargello^ 

Within  the  last  ten  years  two  interesting  discoveries  have 
been  made  in  Florence.  One  is  the  portrait  of  Dante  in  the 
chapel  of  the  Palazzo  del  Podesta,  by  Giotto.  This  palazzo  is 
a  singular  structure,  built  in  a  rambling  and  uncouth  style,  and 
now  used  as  a  prison.  Upon  the  walls  of  the  Cortile  are  seen 
the  armorial  bearings  of  a  long  line  of  magistrates  of  Florence. 
The  room  in  which  the  portrait  was  discovered  had  lost  the 
aspect  of  a  chapel,  and  had  been  used  as  a  store-house  for  the 
prison,  or  some  similar  office.  Perhaps  it  is  hardly  correct  to 
say  that  the  portrait  was  discovered,  as  there  must  always  have 
been  some  persons  who  knew  that  this  work,  and  many  others, 
were  there,  and  might  be  found  if  any  one  would  take  the 
trouble  to  remove  the  whitewash.  .  .  .  For  many  years,  even 
generations,  the  portrait  slept  in  its  shroud  of  white,  and  there 
would  have  slept  till  the  last  syllable  of  recorded  time,  had  its 
resurrection  depended  upon  indigenous  reverence,  energy,  and 
enterprise.  A  few  English  and  American  gentlemen  .  .  . 
resolved  to  make  the  attempt  to  uncover  it,  and  after  repeated 
applications,  and  all  sorts  of  aiding  influence,  the  supineness 
or  distrust  of  the  government  was  so  far  overcome  as  to  give 
these  gentlemen  a  reluctant  consent  to  remove  the  whitewash 
at  their  own  expense. 

The  result  answered  to  their  hopes.  After  a  coat  of  white- 
wash, in  some  places  an  inch  thick,  had  been  taken  off,  the 
portrait  was  found.  It  represents  the  great  poet  in  the  prime 
of  life,  before  sorrow  and  struggle  had  sharpened  and  deepened 
the  lines  of  his  face,  and  made  it  that  record  of  outraged  pride 
and  wounded  sensibility  which  it  became  in  his  declining 
years.  The  brow  is  ample,  the  nose  straight,  and  the  features 
regular ;  a  countenance  at  once  intellectual  and  handsome. 
The  dress  is  a  long,  flowing  robe,  and  the  head  is  covered 
with  a  sort  of  hood  or  cap.  Whatever  merits  as  a  work  of  art 
it  may  have  had  have  been  sadly  impaired  by  what  it  has 
been  through  ;  but  no  one  will  deny  that  it  is  a  precious  waif 
snatched  from  the  wreck  of  time. — G.  S.  Hillard. 

^  The  Bargello  has  no  great  interest  as  a  j)ublic  building,  though  once 
the  home  of  the  Podesta.  Much  restored  in  the  interior,  it  now  houses 
the  collection  known  as  the  Museo  Nazionale. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     273 


PONTE    VecCHIqI 

Among  the  four  bridges  that  span  the  river,  the  Ponte 
Vecchio — that  bridge  which  is  covered  with  the  shops  of 
jewellers  and  goldsmiths — is  a  most  enchanting  feature  in  the 
scene.  The  space  of  one  house,  in  the  centre,  being  left 
open,  the  view  beyond  is  shown  as  in  a  frame ;  and  that 
precious  glimpse  of  sky,  and  water  and  rich  buildings,  shining 
so  quietly  among  the  huddled  roofs  and  gables  on  the  bridge, 
is  exquisite. — Dickens. 

The  Ponte  S.  Trinita  was  thrown  down  by  the  inundation 
of  1557,  and  rebuilt  by  order  of  the  Grand  Duke  Cosmo  I. 
according  to  the  designs  of  Ammanti.  It  is  of  a  bold  and 
sturdy  construction  ;  the  arches  are  of  an  oval  form  cut  by  the 
centre  in  its  length,  thus  giving  greater  space  and  making  the 
flow  of  the  water  easier.  The  piles  are  protected  by  spurs 
running  into  acute  angles,  dividing  the  volume  of  water  and 
diminishing  its  strength.  The  bridge  is  furnished  on  the  two 
sides  with  footways  for  pedestrians,  the  middle  being  reserved 
for  carriages.  At  the  ends  are  the  statues  of  the  Four 
Seasons. — LAbbe  Richard. 

The  Duomo 

...  It  was  anciently  called  S.  Reparata's  church ;  but 
since  it  is  called  Santa  Maria  Florida,  a  fit  name  for  the 
Cathedral  of  Florence.  .  .  .  On  the  top  of  it  stands  mounted 
a  fair  cupola  (or  tholus)  made  by  Brunelleschi,  a  Florentine. 
This  was  the  first  cupola  in  Europe  ;  and  therefore  the  more 
admirable  for  having  no  idea  after  which  it  could  be  framed ; 
and  for  being  the  idea  of  that  of  S.  Peter's  in  Rome,  after 
which  so  many  young  cupolas  in  Rome,  and  elsewhere,  have 
been  made  since.  Hence  it  is  said  that  Michael  Angelo 
coming  now  and  then  to  Florence  (his  native  country)  whiles 
he  was  making  the  cupola  in  Rome  of  S.  Peter's  church,  and 
viewing  attentively  this  cupola  of  Florence,  used  to  say  to  it  : 
Come  te  non  voglio.,  meglio  di  te  non  posso."^  It's  said  also  that 
Brunelleschi,  making  this  cupola,  caused  taverns,  cook  shops, 
and  lodgings  to  be  set  in  it,  that  the  workmen  might  find  all 

^  It  may  be  noted  that  the  Pitti  Palace  and  the  Church  of  the  Carmine 
are  on  the  south  side  of  the  river. 

'  "  Like  thee  I  will  not ;  better  than  thee  I  cannot." 

S 


2  74  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

things  necessary  there,  and  not  spend  time  in  going  up  and 
down.  .  .  .  The  straight  passage  from  the  top  of  the  cupola 
to  the  round  brazen  Ball  is  thirty-six  yards  high.  The  Ball  is 
four  yards  wide  and  capable  of  four  and  twenty  men  :  and  the 
cross  at  the  top  of  this  Ball  is  eight  yards  long.  .  .  .  From 
the  top  of  this  cupola,  taking  a  perfect  view  of  Florence  under 
us,  and  of  the  whole  country  about  it,  with  the  sight  of  two 
thousand  villas  or  country  houses  scattered  here  and  there 
round  about  the  town,  we  came  down  again  to  view  the  inside 
of  this  church. 

It  is  about  three  hundred  feet  long,  from  the  great  door  to 
the  choir,  and  from  thence  to  the  end  almost  two  hundred 
more.  The  choir  is  round  and  perpendicularly  under  the 
cupola,  being  of  the  same  bigness  ;  and,  upon  solemn  days 
when  the  wax  candles  are  lighted  round  about  it,  it  looks 
gloriously,  otherwise  in  winter  time  it  seems  too  dark.^  The 
High  Altar,  which  stands  in  this  choir,  is  plain,  like  those  of 
ancient  cathedrals,  and  adorned  with  a  rare  statue  of  a  dead 
Christ  in  white  marble  made  by  the  hand  of  Bandinelli. 
Looking  up  from  the  quire  to  the  cupola,  you  see  it  painted 
on  the  inside  with  the  representation  of  heaven,  hell  and 
purgatory.  The  painters  were  Georgio  Vasari  and  Taddeo 
Zuccari.  .  .  .  Near  the  door  of  the  sacristy  you  may  read  an 
inscription,  importing  that  in  this  town  of  Florence  had  been 
held  a  General  Council,  where  the  reunion  of  the  Latin  and 
Greek  church  had  been  made.-  .   .  . 

In  this  church  you  see  the  statues  of  divers  saints  who 
have  been  archbishops  of  this  town  ;  and  the  tombs  of  divers 
famous  men  ;  as  of  Marcilius  Ficinus,  the  Platonic  Christian 

^  Beckford  also  refers  to  the  sobriety  of  the  interior  as  follows  :  "  The 
architect  seems  to  have  turned  his  building  inside  out  ;  nothing  in  art  being 
more  ornamented  than  the  exterior,  and  few  churches  so  simple  within. 
The  nave  is  vast  and  solemn,  the  dome  amazingly  spacious,  with  the  high 
altar  in  its  centre,  inclosed  by  a  circular  arcade  near  two  hundred  feet  in 
diameter.  There  is  something  imposing  in  this  decoration,  as  it  suggests 
the  idea  of  a  sanctuary,  into  which  none  but  the  holy  ought  to  penetrate. 
However  profane  I  might  feel  myself,  I  took  the  liberty  of  entering,  and 
sat  myself  down  in  a  niche.  Not  a  ray  of  light  reaches  this  sacred 
inclosure,  but  through  the  medium  of  narrow  windows,  high  in  the  dome 
and  richly  painted." 

'^  6th  July,  1438.  Had  the  reconciliation  been  in  any  way  real,  Con- 
stantinople might  have  been  saved  from  the  Turks  in  1453.  The  Council 
of  Florence  is  the  last  great  puljlic  act  of  the  Eastern  F.mpire.  This 
Council  had  its  share  in  the  revival  of  Greek  learning.  In  the  right  aisle 
of  the  cathedral  is  the  monument  of  Gionozzo  Manetti,  and  a  bust  of 
Ficinus.     (See  chapter  iv.  Symonds's  Revival  of  Learning.' 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     275 

philosopher  ...  of  Johannes  Acutius  ^  an  English  knight, 
and  general  anciently  of  the  Pisani,  as  the  old  Gothic  letters 
set  high  upon  the  wall  under  his  picture  on  horseback  told 
me. — Lassels. 

The  Duomo  (the  Exterior) 

Let  us  .  .  .  look  at  the  celebrated  Cathedral,  difficult  as 
it  is  to  get  a  clear  view  of  it.  It  stands  on  a  level  site,  and  to 
get  a  complete  view  of  its  mass  we  should  have  to  pull  down 
three  hundred  of  the  adjoining  houses.  Herein  is  the  manifest 
defect  of  the  great  edifices  of  the  middle  ages ;  even  to-day, 
after  the  many  clearances  effected  for  modern  reconstructions, 
the  cathedrals  must  still  be  studied  on  paper.  Ihe  spectator 
takes  hold  of  a  fragment,  a  section  or  a  fagade ;  but  the  build- 
ing in  its  entirety  escapes  him  where  the  work  of  man  has 
gone  beyond  his  compass.  It  was  not  thus  in  antiquity;  the 
temples  were  small  or  at  most  of  reasonable  size  ;  their  general 
form  and  complete  profile  could  be  studied  from  twenty 
different  places.  When  Christianity  came,  human  imagination 
soared  beyond  human  strength,  and  the  ambitions  of  the  soul 
forgot  the  limitations  of  the  body.  The  balance  of  the  human 
automaton  was  lost,  and  with  the  loss  of  due  moderation,  a 
taste  for  the  capricious  was  established.  With  neither  reason 
nor  symmetry  campaniles  and  spires  were  planted  like  solitary 
sign-posts  in  front  or  beside  the  cathedrals  ;  there  is  one  in 
isolation  by  the  Duomo,  and  this  discordance  in  the  human 
harmony  must  have  been  potent,  since  it  makes  itself  felt  here 
among  Latin  traditions  and  classical  associations. 

In  other  respects,  excepting  the  ogival  arcades,  the  edifice 
is  not  Gothic  but  Byzantine,  unless  we  can  call  it  a  new  style 
altogether ;  for  it  is  the  result  of  novel  and  varied  forms  like 
the  new  and  mingled  civilisation  which  fathers  it.  Together 
with  suggestions  of  the  quaint  and  fanciful  we  feel  power  and 
originality  in  it.  Walls  spacious  to  grand  vastness  spring  uj) 
and  develop  without  the  few  windows  breaking  their  mass  or 
enfeebling  their  solidity ;  there  are  no  flying-buttresses,  for  the 
building  is  self-sustained.  Marble  panels  of  alternate  black 
and  yellow,  cover  it  with  shining  marqueterie-work,  and  the 
curves  of  the  arches  involved  in  their  slabs  seem  like  a  sturdy 

^  The  Italian  chronicles  concerning  Hawkwond  have  been  translated 
by  Leader  Scott  and  Sig.  Marcotti.  Hallam,  it  will  be  remembered, 
called  the  famous  condottiere  the  pioneer  of  modern  generalship. 


2  76  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

skeleton  seen  through  a  skin.  The  Latin  Cross  formed  by 
the  building  is  shorter  at  the  top,  and  chancel  and  transept 
are  marshalled  into  circles,  projections  and  tiny  domes  at 
the  back  of  the  church  to  bear  company  with  the  grand  dome 
rising  above  the  choir.  This  dome  was  the  work  of  Brunell- 
eschi,  and  is  more  novel  and  yet  more  severe  than  that  of 
St.  Peter's,  uplifting  to  an  astonishing  height  its  elongated 
form,  its  eight  planes  and  pointed  lantern.^ — Taine. 

The  Campanile 

Here,  on  the  flank  of  the  Duomo,  stands  the  Campanile 
by  Giotto,  erect,  isolated,  like  St.  Michael's  tower  at  Bordeaux 
or  the  Tour  St.  Jacques  in  Paris.  All  the  builders  of  the 
middle  ages  seek  height  in  their  edifices,  they  aim  at  the 
skies,  and  their  towers  taper  off  into  pointed  spires.  Had 
this  tower  been  completed  a  thirty-foot  spire  would  have 
topped  a  work  already  250  feet  in  height.  Hitherto  the 
northern  architect  and  the  Italian  too  follow  the  same  instinct 
and  gratify  the  same  preferences  ;  but  while  the  builder  beyond 
the  Alps  in  his  frank  Gothicism  embroiders  his  tower  with 
delicate  traceries,  complicated  mouldings,  and  an  infinitely 
varied  and  interwoven  lace-work  of  stone,  the  southern  crafts- 
man, with  his  half-Latin  traditions  and  tendencies,  erects  a 
square-built  pile  of  solid  strength,  whose  restrained  ornament 
does  not  conceal  the  general  structure  ;  which  is  not  a  frail 
sculptured  casket,  but  a  long-lasting  monument,  covered  with 
royal  luxury  of  red,  black  and  white  marbles ;  and  which 
recalls  the  frieze  and  frontage  of  an  antique  temple  by  the 
wholesome  and  living  statuary  of  its  medallioned  bas-reliefs. 
In  these  medallions,  Giotto  "^  designed  the  principal  events  of 
human  civilisation  :  the  Greek  tradition  set  by  the  side  of  the 
Hebraic,  in  the  persons  of  Adam,  Tubal-Cain,  Noah,  Dsedalus, 
Hercules  and  Anteeus,  together  with  the  discovery  of  the  use  of 
the  plough,  of  the  taming  of  horses,  and  the  beginnings  of  the 
arts  and  sciences.  In  Giotto,  the  lay  spirit  of  philosophy 
could  exist  as  well  as  that  of  theology  and  religion. —  Taine. 

^  The  fa9ade  of  the  Duomo  has  only  been  completed  within  our  own 
time. 

"^  The  statues  are  by  Donatello  and  Rosso,  the  medallions  by  Giotto, 
Andrea  Pisano,  and  Luca  della  Robbia. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     277 


The  Baptistery 

Facing  the  Duomo  is  the  Baptistery,  which  was  formerly 
used  as  a  church.  It  is  a  kind  of  octagonal  temple  with  a 
cupola  above  it,  undoubtedly  built  on  the  model  of  the  Pan- 
theon at  Rome.  According  to  the  evidence  of  a  bishop  of 
the  eighth  century,  it  uplifted  its  pompous  imitation  of  the 
rounded  imperial  form  in  his  time.  Here  we  may  mark — in 
the  most  barbarous  period  of  the  middle  ages — a  continuation, 
a  renewal,  or  certainly  an  imitation  of  Roman  architecture. 
As  we  go  in,  we  perceive  that  the  decoration  is  in  nowise 
Gothic ;  there  is  a  circle  of  Corinthian  columns  in  costly 
marble,  and  above  them  a  range  of  smaller  ones  with  loftier 
arcades.  In  the  vault  is  a  legion  of  angels  and  saints  gathered 
in  four  rows  round  a  dim,  ascetic  and  sorrowful  Christ  of  large 
Byzantine  form.  In  these  three  superimposed  storeys  we  may 
read  the  successive  deformations  of  ancient  art ;  but  it  remains 
a  classical  art,  be  it  modified  or  distorted ;  and  it  is  of  the 
utmost  importance  to  remember  that  in  Italy,  the  art  never 
became  Teutonised. — Taitie, 


The  Baptistery  Doors  (Lorenzo  Ghiberti) 

In  1400,  when  he  was  twenty-three  years  old,  after  the 
competition  from  which  Brunelleschi  retired  in  his  favour,  he 
secured  the  commission  for  the  two  doors.  Under  his  hand 
pure  Greek  beauty  reappeared;  not  only  in  the  powerful 
imitation  of  the  actual  body  as  Donatello  understands  it,  but 
with  the  appreciation  of  the  ideal  and  perfected  form.  Twenty 
figures  of  women  in  his  bas-reliefs  seem  master-works  of  the 
Athenian  style  as  much  for  their  nobility  of  line  and  head  as 
for  their  simplicity  of  pose  and  calm  of  action.  The  forms 
are  not  too  elongated  as  with  the  followers  of  Michael  Angelo, 
nor  too  heavy  like  the  Three  Graces  of  Raphael.  The  Eve 
who  has  just  come  to  life  and  leaning  forward  turns  her  eyes 
calmly  to  the  Creator  is  a  nymph  of  the  earliest  age,  a  virgin 
pure  whose  instincts  are  in  the  balance  between  sleeping  and 
waking.  A  like  dignity  and  a  similar  harmony  control  the 
groups  and  inspire  the  scenes ;  the  processions  stretch  out  and 
wind  as  around  a  vase,  while  individuals  or  crowds  meet  or  are 
linked  together  like  an  antique  chorus.  Symmetrical  archi- 
tectural forms  of  the  classic  order  are  set  about  the  colonnades 


278  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

in  whose  porticoes  are  male  and  austere  figures,  tlie  falling 
draperies,  varied  and  yet  carefully  chosen  attitudes,  of  the  great 
drama  in  action.  Here  a  young  warrior  looks  like  Alcibiades;  in 
front  ot  him  strides  a  Roman  consul ;  blooming  young  women 
of  inexpressible  youth  and  health  are  half  turning,  at  gaze  and 
with  an  arm  upraised,  one  of  them  like  Juno,  the  other  like 
an  Amazon,  both  caught  in  one  of  those  rare  moments  when 
the  nobility  of  bodily  life  reaches  without  any  effort  or  any 
thought  its  fullness  of  achievement.  .  .  .  The  work  that  is 
most  like  that  of  the  doors  of  the  Baptistery  is  to  be  found  in 
Raphael's  School  of  Athens  and  the  loggie  ;  and,  to  make  the 
likeness  greater,  Ghiberti  handles  his  bronze  as  if  he  were  a 
painter,  for  in  the  number  of  figures,  the  interest  of  the  scenes 
and  spaciousness  of  the  landscapes,  the  use  of  perspective  and 
the  varied  relationship  of  the  retreating  planes  and  vanishing 
lines,  these  sculptures  are  almost  pictorial.^ — Taine. 

Santa  Maria  Novella'^ 

The  front  of  the  church  is  composed  of  black  and  white 
marble,  which,  in  the  course  of  the  five  centuries  that  it  has 
been  built,  has  turned  brown  and  yellow.  On  the  right  hand, 
as  you  approach,  is  a  long  colonnade  of  arches,  extending  on 
a  line  with  the  fagade,  and  having  a  tomb  beneath  every  arch. 
This  colonnade  forms  one  of  the  enclosing  walls  of  a  cloister. 
We  found  none  of  the  front  entrances  open,  but  on  our  left, 

^  "I  cannot  omit,"  writes  Lassels,  "here  to  take  notice  of  a  little 
round  pillar  in  the  Piazza,  near  this  baptistery,  with  the  figure  of  a  tree  in 
iron  nailed  to  it,  and  old  words  engraven  upon  it,  importing,  that  in  this 
very  place  stood  anciently  an  elm  tree,  which  being  touched  casually  by 
the  hearse  of  St.  Zenobius,  as  they  carried  it  here  in  procession,  the  tree 
presently  budded  forth  with  green  leaves  of  sweet  odour,  though  in  the 
month  of  January.  In  memory  of  which  miracle,  this  pillar  was  set  up  in 
the  same  place  for  a  memorial." 

-  It  must  not  be  forgotten  that  as  a  church  Sta.  Maria  Novella  is  older 
than  the  Duomo.  Longfellow  refers  to  one  of  its  historic  associations  in 
this  note  :  "  At  Florence  I  took  lodgings  in  a  house  which  fronts  upon  the 
Piazza  Novella.  In  front  of  my  parlour  windows  was  the  venerable 
Gothic  church  of  Santa  Maria  Novella,  in  whose  gloomy  aisles  Boccaccio 
lias  placed  the  opening  scenes  of  his  Decanierone.  There,  when  the 
plague  was  raging  in  the  city,  one  Tuesday  morning,  after  mass,  the 
*  seven  ladies,  young  and  fair,'  held  council  together,  and  resolved  to  leave 
the  infected  city,  and  flee  to  their  rural  villas  in  the  environs,  where  they 
might  'hear  the  birds  sing,  and  see  the  green  hills,  and  the  plains,  and  the 
fields  covered  with  grain  and  undulating  like  the  sea,  and  trees  of  species 
manifold.' " 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     279 

in  a  wall  at  right  angles  with  the  church,  there  was  an  open 
gateway,  approaching  which,  we  saw,  within  the  four-sided 
colonnade,  an  enclosed  green  space  of  a  cloister.  This  is 
what  is  called  the  Chiostro  verde,  so  named  from  the  prevailing 
colour  of  the  frescoes  with  which  the  walls  beneath  the  arches 
are  adorned.  .  .  .  Entering  the  transept,  our  guide  shewed  us 
the  Chapel  of  the  Strozzi  family,  which  is  accessible  by  a 
flight  of  steps  from  the  floor  of  the  church.  The  walls  of  this 
chapel  are  covered  with  frescoes  by  Orcagna.  .  .  .  We  next 
passed  into  the  choir,  which  occupies  the  extreme  end  of  the 
church  behind  the  great  square  mass  of  the  high  altar,  and  is 
surrounded  with  a  double  row  of  ancient  oaken  seats  of 
venerable  shape  and  carving.  The  choir  is  illuminated  by  a 
threefold  Gothic  window,  full  of  richly-painted  glass,  worth  all 
the  frescoes  that  ever  stained  a  wall  or  ceiling ;  but  these  walls, 
nevertheless,  are  adorned  with  frescoes  by  Ghirlandajo,  and  it 
is  easy  to  see  must  once  have  made  a  magnificent  appearance. 
— Haivthorne. 

Orcagna  has  covered  the  entire  wall  of  one  of  the  chapels 
with  his  vast  fresco ;  the  arrangement  of  the  place  of  damna- 
tion is  planned  out  with  the  most  exact  detail  and  scrupulously 
in  accordance  with  the  Divine  Comedy,  as  though  it  were  an 
article  of  faith  and  not  a  poetic  fiction.  It  is  very  different  to 
the  Hell  of  the  Campo  Santo  at  Pisa ;  here  we  find  as  much 
of  the  topography  of  the  infernal  regions  as  the  space  available 
made  possible.  The  painter,  for  instance,  had  no  room  in  his 
field  for  the  Hypocrites,  but  the  title  is  written  at  the  end  of 
the  painting,  and  proves  that  the  painter  meant  to  have  inserted 
them  had  he  had  space.  Apart  from  this,  nothing  is  con- 
cealed or  glossed  over  in  the  crude  or  even  disgusting  details 
of  certain  punishments.  The  quarrel  of  Master  Adam,  the 
coiner  who  is  dropsical  and  yet  panting  with  thirst,  is  drawn 
to  the  life,  as  if  it  were  a  duel  of  boxers.  The  Flatterers  are 
plunged  in  the  particular  filth  by  which  Dante  wished  to 
express  all  his  disgust  for  souls  infected  by  the  vice  which  is 
the  plague  of  courts. 

What  is  stranger  still  here  is  that  in  one  chapel  the  painter 
has  not  hesitated  to  reproduce  the  curious  alliance  of  Christian 
dogma  with  pagan  fable  which  the  poet  attempted  in  obedience 
to  the  spirit  of  the  age,  and  which  is  even  more  astounding  to 
the  view  than  in  the  reading.  Thus  on  the  walls  of  Santa 
Maria  Novella  we  see  the  Violent  being  pursued  by  Centaurs 
who  pierce  them  with  arrows  as  in  the  Divine  Comedy.     On 


28o  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

mournful  branches  from  which  they  utter  mournful  cries  are 
perched  Harpies,  which  as  a  pagan  recollection  would  be 
more  in  harmony  with  the  yEneid  than  with  the  Christian 
fable.  There  are  finally  P^uries  to  be  seen  standing  over  the 
abyss  on  their  flaming  tower. 

Opposite  to  the  Hell,  Orcagna  has  given  us  the  glory  of 
Paradise ;  but  Dante's  celestial  circles  do  not  lend  themselves 
to  painting  so  well  as  do  the  bolge  of  hell.  Orcagna  has 
not  been  able  to  follow  the  poet's  imaginings  so  faithfully ; 
nevertheless,  the  glorification  of  the  Madonna  which  domi- 
nates this  and  other  pictures  of  the  middle  ages  is  also  the 
crown  of  the  great  epic  of  Dante. — Aniptre. 

Ghirlandajo,  Michael  Angelo's  master,  has  covered  the 
walls  of  the  choir  with  frescoes,  which  can  be  best  seen  about 
mid-day,  badly  lit  as  they  are,  and  cumbrously  piled  on  the 
top  of  each  other.  The  figures  are  half  life-size  and  deal  with 
the  history  of  Saint  John  the  Baptist  and  the  Virgin.  Like  his 
contemporaries  the  painter  is  a  copyist  by  education  as  well 
as  instinct  ;  he  used  to  draw  the  people  passing  in  front  of 
his  jeweller's  shop,  and  the  likeness  of  his  figures  was  much 
admired.  For  him  "  the  secret  of  painting  lay  in  drawing." 
For  the  artists  of  the  period,  man  is  still  but  a  form ;  but 
Ghirlandajo  had  so  just  an  idea  of  that  and  every  other  form 
that  when  he  copied  the  triumphal  arches  and  amphitheatres 
of  Rome,  he  could  draw  them  as  accurately  from  sight  as  if 
he  had  used  a  compass.  Thus  schooled,  he  could,  we  can 
well  understand,  put  the  most  speaking  likenesses  in  his 
frescoes  :  here  there  are  some  twenty-one,  representing  men 
whom  we  know  by  name :  Christopher  Landini,  Ficino, 
Politian,  the  bishop  of  Arezzo,  and  others  of  women  such  as 
Ginevra  de'  Benci — all  belonging  to  the  families  which  were 
the  patrons  of  the  chapel.  The  figures  incline  to  the  common- 
place, some  with  hard  faces  and  sharp  noses  come  too  near 
to  realism ;  the  grand  manner  is  lacking  and  the  painter  goes 
on  the  solid  ground,  or  flies  just  a  little  above  it ;  he  by  no 
means  lias  the  broad  flight  of  Masaccio.  Nevertheless  he 
builds  up  his  groups  and  his  architecture,  arranges  his 
characters  in  round  sanctuaries,  dresses  them  in  his 
half-Florentine,  half-Greek  garb,  which  mingles  or  con- 
trasts in  happy  oppositions,  and  graceful  harmony  of  the 
antique  and  modern.  Above  all,  Ghirlandajo  is  simple  and 
sincere.  .  .  . 

We  could  spend   hours  looking  at  the  feminine  figures : 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     281 

the  civic  flowers  of  the  fifteenth  century  are  here  as  they  lived. 
Each  has  her  characteristic  expression,  and  the  charming 
irregularity  of  real  life — all  of  them  have  the  intelligent  and 
lively  faces  of  Florentines,  half-modern,  half-feudal.  In  the 
Nativity  of  the  Virgin  the  young  girl  in  a  silk  skirt  who  has 
come  to  call  is  a  serious  and  innocent  young  lady  of  good 
birth;  in  the  Nativity  of  St. /ohn,  a  lady  standing  near  is  a 
medieval  duchess  :  near  him  is  a  servant  bearing  fruit,  dressed 
in  statuesque  drapery  and  with  so  much  of  the  joyful  impulse 
and  health  of  an  ancient  nymph  that  the  two  ages  and  two 
beauties  meet  and  unite  in  the  innocence  of  the  same  purity. 
The  freshest  smiles  are  on  their  lips.  .  .  .  The  curiosity  and  the 
refinement  of  a  later  age  have  not  touched  them  .  .  .  thought 
in  them  slumbers  .  .  .  and  education,  with  all  its  feverish 
culture,  will  fail  beside  the  angelic  quaintness  of  their  gravity. 
— Taine. 

The  admirable  frescoes  of  this  [the  Spanish]  chapel  were 
painted  by  Taddeo  Gaddi  and  Simone  Memmi;  they  set  before 
us  a  mingling  of  history  and  allegory,  in  the  encyclopaedic  and 
symbolical  method  which  was  Dante's  as  much  as  that  of  many 
mediaeval  works  conceived  in  the  same  spirit  but  without  the 
same  genius.  Simone  Memmi  has  painted  the  civil  and 
ecclesiastic  society  of  his  time  ;  all  the  social  conditions  are 
brought  together  in  this  picture,  which  is  an  enormous  review 
of  life.  Pope  and  Emperor  are  figured  in  the  centre,  on  the 
scheme  of  Dante;  portraits  of  contemporary  celebrities  are 
not  lacking,  although  some  of  the  personages  are  pure 
allegories,  or  give  an  image  which  is  an  allegory  as  well  as  a 
portrait.  In  Memmi's  painting,  Laura  represents  the  Will, 
just  as  in  Dante's  work  Beatrice  stands  for  Contemplation. 

It  may  be  said  that  Dante  habitually  chooses  some  historical 
personage  to  typify  a  quality,  a  vice,  or  science,  and  will  employ 
this  means  just  as  frequently  as  that  of  allegory  to  realise  an 
abstraction.  In  the  same  way,  in  Taddeo  Gaddi's  fresco, 
fourteen  Sciences  and  Arts  are  rendered  as  women,  while 
beneath  these  are  placed  the  typical  personages  who  are  the 
historical  prototypes  of  each  science.  The  first  is  the  Civil 
Law  with  Justinian;  the  Canonic  Law  comes  next.  This 
order  agrees  with  Dante's  ideas  on  politics.  ...  In  these 
pictures  we  continually  find  conceptions  resembling  those  of 
Dante  or  inspired  by  )\\xa}— Ampere. 

^  Santa  Maria  Novella  also  contains  the   Rucellai  Chapel,  with  the 
celebrated  Cimabue  "  Madonna  "  of  which  Vasari  wrote  :    "  This  picture 


282  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


Or  San  Michele 

Going  from  the  Piazza  towards  the  Duomo,  we  were  pre- 
sently stopped  by  the  church  of  St.  Michael,  a  square  flat  church, 
whose  outside  is  adorned  with  rare  statues,  if  not  of  gold,  yet 
worth  their  weight  in  gold.  The  best  are,  that  of  S.  Matthew 
in  brass  made  by  Laurentius  Cion  ;  that  of  S.  Thomas  in 
brass  touching  the  side  of  our  Saviour,  with  great  demonstra- 
tions of  diffidence  in  his  looks,  is  of  Andrea  Verrochio's  hand. 
That  of  S.  George^  in  marble  is  compared  to  the  best  in 
Rome,  and  hath  been  praised  both  in  prose  and  verse. — 
Lassels. 

We  w^ent  into  the  church  of  San  Michele,  and  saw  in  its 

is  of  larger  size  than  any  figure  that  had  been  painted  down  to  those 
times  ;  and  the  angels  surrounding  it,  make  it  evident  that,  although 
Cimabue  still  retained  the  Greek  manner,  he  was  nevertheless  gradually 
approaching  the  mode  of  outline  and  general  method  of  modern  times. 
Thus  it  happened  that  this  work  was  an  object  of  so  much  admiration  to 
the  people  of  that  day — they  having  then  never  seen  anything  better — 
that  it  was  carried  in  solemn  procession,  with  the  sound  of  trumpets  and 
other  festal  demonstrations,  from  the  house  of  Cimabue  to  the  church,  he 
himself  being  highly  rewarded  and  honoured  for  it.  It  is  further  reported, 
and  may  be  read  in  certain  records  of  old  painters,  that,  whilst  Cimabue 
was  painting  this  picture,  in  a  garden  near  the  gate  of  San  Pietro,  King 
Charles  the  Elder,  of  Anjou,  passed  through  Florence,  and  the  authorities 
of  the  city,  among  other  marks  of  respect,  conducted  him  to  see  the 
picture  of  Cimabue.  When  this  work  was  thus  shewn  to  the  king,  it  had 
not  before  been  seen  by  any  one  ;  wherefore  all  the  men  and  women  of 
Florence  hastened  in  great  crowds  to  admire  it,  making  all  possible 
demonstrations  of  delight.  The  inhabitants"  of  the  neighbourhood,  re- 
joicing in  this  occurrence,  ever  afterwards  called  that  place  Borgo 
Allegri." 

1  Now  in  the  Museo  Nazionale.  Vasari's  account  of  this  great  work 
representing  our  national  patron  saint  is  as  follows:  "For  the  Guild  of 
Armourers,  Donatello  executed  a  most  animated  figure  of  St.  George,  in 
his  armour.  The  brightness  of  youthful  beauty,  generosity,  and  bravery 
shine  forth  in  his  face  ;  his  attitude  gives  evidence  of  a  proud  and  terrible 
impetuosity  ;  the  character  of  the  saint  is  indeed  expressed  most  wonder- 
fully, and  life  seems  to  move  within  that  stone.  It  is  certain  that  in  no 
modern  figure  has  there  yet  been  seen  so  much  animation,  nor  so  life-like 
a  spirit  in  marble,  as  nature  and  art  have  combined  to  produce  by  the  hand 
of  Donato  in  this  statue.  On  the  pedestal  which  supports  the  tabernacle 
enclosing  the  figure,  the  story  of  St.  George  killing  the  dragon  is  executed 
in  basso-rilievo,  and  also  in  marble  :  in  this  work  there  is  a  horse,  which 
has  been  highly  celebrated  and  much  admired:  in  the  pediment  is  a  half- 
length  figure  of  God  the  Father,  also  in  basso-rilievo."  Why  does  not 
some  patron  of  the  arts  provide  a  replica  of  the  statue  to  be  put  in  some 
public  place  in  London  ? 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     283 

architecture  the  traces  of  its  transformation  from  a  market  into 
a  church.  In  its  pristine  state  it  consisted  of  a  double  row  of 
three  great  open  arches,  with  the  wind  blowing  through  them, 
and  the  sunshine  falhng  aslantwise  into  them,  while  the  bustle 
of  the  market,  the  sale  of  fish,  flesh  or  fruit  went  on  within,  or 
brimmed  over  into  the  streets  that  enclosed  them  on  every 
side,  liut,  four  or  five  hundred  years  ago,  the  broad  arches 
were  built  up  with  stone-work  ;  windows  were  pierced  through 
and  filled  with  painted  glass;  a  high  altar,^  in  a  rich  style  of 
pointed  Gothic,  was  raised  ;  shrines  and  confessionals  were  set 
up ;  and  here  it  is,  a  solemn  and  antique  church,  where  a  man 
may  buy  his  salvation  instead  of  his  dinner.  .  .  . 

It  appears  that  a  picture  of  the  Virgin  used  to  hang  against 
one  of  the  pillars  of  the  market-place,  while  it  was  still  a 
market,  and  in  the  year  1292,  several  miracles  were  wrought  by 
it,  insomuch  that  a  chapel  was  consecrated  for  it.  So  many 
worshippers  came  to  the  shrine  that  the  business  of  the  market 
was  impeded,  and  ultimately  the  Virgin  and  St.  Michel  won 
the  whole  space  for  themselves.  The  upper  part  of  the  edifice 
was  at  that  time  a  granary,  and  is  still  used  for  other  than 
religious  purposes.  This  church  was  one  spot  to  which  the 
inhabitants  betook  themselves  much  for  refuge  and  divine 
assistance  during  the  great  plague  described  by  Boccaccio. — 
Hawthorne. 

San  Lorenzo 

This  forenoon  we  have  been  to  the  church  of  St,  Lorenzo, 
which  stands  on  the  site  of  an  ancient  basilica,  and  was  itself 
built  more  than  four  centuries  ago.  The  fa9ade  is  still  an 
ugly  height  of  rough  brick-work.  .  .  .  The  interior  had  a  nave 
with  a  fiat  roof,  divided  from  the  side  aisles  by  Corinthian 
pillars,  and,  at  the  farther  end,  a  raised  space  around  the  high 

^  This  work  of  art  is  known  as  the  finest  Gothic  Italy  has  produced 
on  a  small  scale.  There  has  been  a  confusion  between  Andrea  Orcagna 
the  sculptor  of  this  altar  and  Benci  di  Cione,  the  builder  of  this  church. 
(See  Leader  Scott,  Cathedral  Builders,  p.  332.)  Possibly  the  two  were 
father  and  son  ;  but  certainly  Andrea  signed  the  shrine  as  "  Archmagister." 
This  proves  that  he  belonged  to  the  Comacine  Guild.  The  best  descrip- 
tion of  the  shrine  is  that  given  by  Lord  Lindsay.  He  observes  that 
architecturally  "  the  design  is  exquisite,  unrivalled  in  grace  and  propor- 
tion,— it  is  a  miracle  of  loveliness,  and  though  clustered  all  over  with 
pillars  and  pinnacles,  inlaid  with  the  richest  marbles,  lapis-lazuli,  and 
mosaic-work,  it  is  chaste  in  its  luxuriance  as  an  arctic  iceberg — worthy  of 
her  who  was  spotless  among  women." 


284  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

altar.  The  pavement  is  a  mosaic  of  squares  of  black  and 
white  marble,  the  squares  meeting  one  another  cornerwise ; 
the  pillars,  pilasters,  and  other  architectural  materials  are 
dark  brown  or  greyish  stone  ;  and  the  general  effect  is  very 
sombre.  .  .  . 

On  the  left  of  the  choir  is  what  is  called  the  old  sacristy, 
with  the  peculiarities  or  notabilities  of  which  I  am  not 
acquainted.  On  the  right  hand  is  the  new  sacristy,  other- 
wise called  the  Capella  dei  Deposite,  or  Chapel  of  the  Buried, 
built  by  Michel  Angelo,  to  contain  two  monuments  of  the 
Medici  family.  The  interior  is  of  somewhat  severe  and  classic 
architecture,  the  walls  and  pilasters  being  of  dark  stone,  and 
surmounted  by  a  dome,  beneath  which  is  a  row  of  windows, 
quite  round  the  building,  throwing  their  light  down  far  be- 
neath upon  niches  of  white  marble.  These  niches  are  ranged 
entirely  around  the  chapel,  and  might  have  sufficed  to  contain 
more  than  all  the  Medici  monuments  that  the  world  would 
ever  care  to  have.  Only  two  of  these  niches  are  filled,  how- 
ever. In  one  of  them  sits  Giuliano  di  Medici,  sculptured  by 
Michel  Angelo,  a  figure  of  dignity,  which  would  perhaps  be 
very  striking  in  any  other  presence  than  that  of  the  statue 
which  occupies  the  corresponding  niche.  At  the  feet  of 
Giuliano  recline  two  allegorical  statues,  Day  and  Night,  whose 
meaning  there  I  do  not  know,  and  perhaps  Michel  Angelo 
knew  as  little.  As  the  great  sculptor's  statues  are  apt  to  do, 
they  fling  their  limbs  abroad  with  adventurous  freedom. 
Below  the  corresponding  niche,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
chapel,  recline  two  similar  statues,  representing  Morning  and 
Evening.  .  .  . 

.  .  .  The  statue  that  sits  above  these  two  latter  allegories. 
Morning  and  Evening,  is  like  no  other  that  ever  came  from 
a  sculptor's  hand.  It  is  the  one  work  worthy  of  Michel 
Angelo's  reputation,  and  grand  enough  to  vindicate  for  him  all 
the  genius  that  the  world  gave  him  credit  for.  And  yet  it 
seems  a  simple  thing  enough  to  think  of  or  to  execute ;  merely 
a  sitting  figure,  the  face  partly  overshadowed  by  a  helmet,  one 
hand  supporting  the  chin,  the  other  resting  on  the  thigh.  But 
after  looking  at  it  a  little  while,  the  spectator  ceases  to  think 
of  it  as  a  marble  statue ;  it  comes  to  life,  and  you  see  that  the 
princely  figure  is  brooding  over  some  great  design,  which, 
when  he  has  arranged  in  his  own  mind,  the  world  will  be  fain 
to  execute  for  him.  No  such  grandeur  and  majesty  have  else- 
where been  put  into  human  shape.     It  is  all  a  miracle ;  the 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     285 

deep  repose,  and  the  deep  life  within  it.  It  is  as  much  a 
miracle  to  have  achieved  this  as  to  make  a  statue  that  would 
rise  up  and  walk.  The  face,  when  one  gazes  earnestly  into  it, 
beneath  the  shadow  of  its  helmet,  is  seen  to  be  calmly  sombre  ; 
a  mood  which,  I  think,  is  generally  that  of  the  rulers  of  man- 
kind, except  in  moments  of  vivid  action.  1 — Hawthorne. 

Santa  Croce 

Santa  Croce  is  a  church  of  the  thirteenth  century  modern- 
ized in  the  sixteenth,  half-Gothic  and  half-classic,  at  first 
simple  and  afterwards  decorated,  whose  discrepancies  do  not 
allow  it  to  be  considered  beautiful.  It  has  been  filled  with 
tombs  :  Galileo,  Dante,  Michael  Angelo,  Filicaja,^  Battista 
Alberti,  Machiavelli,  almost  all  the  great  Italians,  have  monu- 
ments here,  most  of  which  are  modern,  aggressive  anci  lacking 
in  tenderness.  The  monument  of  Alfieri  by  Canova  shews 
the  manner  of  First  Empire  sculpture,  much  akin  to  that  of 
David  and  Girodet.  The  only  one  that  clings  to  the  memory 
is  that  of  the  Countess  Zamoiska,  with  its  pale,  mild  and 
emaciated  face  :  it  is  a  portrait  and  the  sculptor  has  had  the 
courage  to  be  simple  and  sincere.  It  is  nowise  allegorical : 
truth  alone  gives  the  sense  of  pity.  Life  had  scarcely 
departed,  and  we  see  the  dead  in  the  cap  and  pleated  white 
dress  of  an  invalid  on  a  little  bed  ;  a  sheet  is  over  the  limbs, 
shewing  the  shape  of  the  feet.  The  dead  woman  sleeps  in 
peace,  at  rest  after  the  last  struggle.^ — Tat?te. 

In  this  church  there  have  recently  been  discovered — under 
the   coat   of   whitewash— some   small   frescoes,   possibly   by 

1  The  interest  of  the  New  Sacristy  has  blinded  travellers  to  the  value 
of  the  Old  Sacristy  with  its  decorations  by  Donatello.  These  were  prob- 
ably executed  by  the  sculptor  before  his  visit  to  Padua  to  undertake  his 
equestrian  statue  of  Guattamelata,  though  Vasari  states  the  opposite. 
Taine  writes  enthusiastically  :  "The  two  pulpits  .  .  .  by  Donatello  ;  the 
bronze  bas-reliefs  covering  the  marble  ;  the  numerous  lifelike  figures  of 
impassioned  youth,  and  particularly  the  frieze  of  naked  cherubs  playing 
and  leaping  along  the  cornice ;  the  charming  balcony  above  the  organ 
wrought  so  delicately  as  to  look  like  ivory,  with  its  niches,  shell-patterns, 
columns,  animals  and  foliage — how  graceful,  how  tasteful  it  all  is." 

2  The  author  of  the  famous  sonnet,  beginning  : 

"  Italia,  Italia,  o  tu,  cui  feo  la  sorte 
Dono  infelice  di  belleza." 

3  Donatello's  Annunciation  is  to  be  noted  in  Santa  Croce.  "  It  is  of 
special  interest,"  writes  Hope  Rea,  "it  is,  as  it  were  a  parenthesis  in  the 
long  career  of  the  master,  and  is  in  its  general  career  unique.  It  is  his  only 
work  of  any  magnitude  in  which  a  woman's  form  has  a  principal  position." 


286  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Giotto,  with  the  history  of  St.  John  the  Baptist,  St.  John  the 
EvangeUst,  and  St.  Francis.  But  are  they  by  Giotto,  and 
have  they  been  faithfully  restored?  At  least  they  belong  to 
the  fourteenth  century  and  are  curious.  Variety  is  not  lacking 
in  them ;  the  numerous  figures  are  seen  kneeling,  lying,  stand- 
ing up,  sitting,  crouching,  moving,  in  every  attitude  possible. 
The  innocent  devotion  of  the  middle  ages  is  well  marked,  and 
the  expression  of  emotion  is  life-like.  Around  St.  Francis, 
who  has  just  died,  the  monks  stand  with  cross  and  banner;  a 
brother  near  the  head  holds  the  book  of  Hours;  some,  to 
sanctify  themselves,  touch  the  stigmata  of  feet  and  hands; 
another  in  monkish  zeal  pushes  his  hand  into  the  wound  in 
the  body.  The  last  figure,  which  is  the  most  touching,  speaks 
to  St.  Francis,  hands  crossed  and  drawn  face.  It  is  an  actual 
scene  in  a  feudal  monastery.^ — Taine. 

Church  of  the  Carmine  ^ 
(Masaccio  in  the  Brancacci  Chapel) 

.  .  .  We  still  go  to  the  Brancacci  chapel  to  study  the 
isolated  innovator  whose  precocious  lead  found  no  followers. 

.  There  is  a  picture  by  him  in  the  Ufifizi  of  an  old  man 
in  a  cap  and  grey  garment,  with  a  wrinkled  forehead  and  a 
cynical  expression  ;  here  Masaccio  copies  as  a  realist,  but  in 
the  grand  manner.  It  is  with  this  theory,  or  rather  this  rough 
idea,  about  him  that  we  go  to  the  chapel  which  he  has  adorned 
with  his  paintings,  although  these  in  the  chapel  are  not  all 
by  him.  Mansolina  has  begun  some  of  them,  Filippirio  has 
completed  others ;  but  the  portions  painted  by  Masaccio  can 
be  distinguished  without  any  trouble,  and  whether  the  three 
painters  were  unconsciously  in  agreement,  or  whether  one  of 

1  The  sacristy  of  Santa  Croce  communicates  with  the  Medici  chapel, 
of  which  Hawthorne  wrote  :  "The  walls  are  encrusted,  from  pavement  to 
dome,  with  marbles  of  inestimable  cost,  and  it  is  a  Florentine  mosaic  on  a 
grander  scale  than  was  ever  executed  elsewhere,  the  result  is  not  gaudy, 
as  in  many  of  the  Roman  chapels,  but  a  dark  and  melancholy  richness." 
Mr.  G.  S.  Hillard,  however,  comments  :  "The  designer  of  the  Medicean 
chapel' reasoned,  that  if  a  Florentine  mosaic  of  a  few  inches  square  be,  as 
it  unquestionably  is,  a  beautiful  thing,  one  of  many  square  feet  will  be  just 
as  much  more  beautiful  as  it  is  bigger,  and  therefore  he  made  the  whole 
side  of  the  room  a  mosaic.  But  therein  he  forgot  the  essential  distinction 
between  the  jeweller  and  the  architect.  He  lost  the  legitimate  triumphs 
of  the  former,  without  gaining  those  of  the  latter." 

2  The  entire  church,  excepting  this  famous  chapel,  was  burnt  down  in 
1771,  and  then  rebuilt.  It  is  described  in  its  former  state  by  the  Abbe 
Richard. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     287 

them  followed  the  cartoons  of  the  other,  the  work  even  in  its 
successive  stages  does  but  mark  different  advances  of  one 
mind. 

What  strikes  us  first  of  all,  is  that  all  the  work  is  realistic, 
that  is,  illustrative  of  the  living  individual  as  our  eyes  see  him. 
The  young  man  who  has  been  baptized  and  whom  Masaccio 
shews  coming  naked  and  shivering  out  of  the  water  with  crossed 
arms,  is  a  bather  of  the  day  who  has  had  a  dip  in  the  Arno  in 
cold  weather.  In  the  same  way  his  Adam  and  Eve  expelled 
from  Paradise  are  Florentines  without  clothes,  the  man,  with 
narrow  hips  and  the  broad  shoulders  of  a  blacksmith,  the 
woman  with  a  short  neck  and  clumsy  form,  and  both  with 
uncouth  legs  :  both  are  artisans  or  tradespeople  who  do  not 
lead  the  undraped  life  of  the  Greeks,  and  whose  bodies  have 
not  been  modelled  or  beautified  by  exercise.  Thus  again  for  the 
child  brought  to  life  in  Lippi's  design,  as  it  kneels  before 
the  apostles  it  has  the  emaciation  and  frail  limbs  of  a  modern 
child.  In  fine,  nearly  all  the  heads  are  portraits  :  two  monks 
in  cowls  on  the  left  of  St.  Peter,  are  monks  walking  out  of  the 
monastery.  We  know  the  names  of  the  contemporaries  who 
lent  their  heads  for  portraiture.  They  were  Angiolino 
Angioli,  Granacci,  Soderini,  Pulci,  Pollaiola,  Botticcelli,  and 
Lippi  himself.  This  art  took  its  being  from  the  surrounding 
life  as  surely  as  the  plaster  laid  on  a  face  takes  the  modelling 
and  the  relief  of  the  form  it  has  rested  on. 

How  is  it  then  that  these  creations  have  more  than  ordinary 
life  ?  In  what  way  has  the  exact  imitation  of  the  truth  escaped 
servility  ?  How  has  Masaccio  made  noble  personages  out  of 
ordinary  persons  ?  The  fact  is  that  out  of  the  multitude  of 
truths  to  be  observed,  he  has  chosen  the  more  important  and 
subordinated  the  rest  to  them.  ...  St.  Peter  healing  the  sick 
over  whom  his  shadow  passes  has  the  royal  strength  of  a 
Roman  who  is  accustomed  to  lead  men  ;  Christ  paying  the 
tribute-money  has  the  noble  calm  of  a  conception  by  Raphael ; 
and  nothing  can  be  grander  than  the  handsome  arrangement 
of  forty  figures  in  the  simplest  draperies,  all  severely  serious 
and  in  different  attitudes,  standing  round  the  naked  child 
upraised  by  St.  Paul ;  behind  them  is  a  richly  decorated  wall, 
and  on  each  side  a  mass  of  houses  ;  by  the  silent  gathering  are 
two  groups,  one  of  the  passers-by,  the  other  of  worshippers, 
which  balance  each  other  and  by  the  harmony  of  their  colour 
add  a  full  richness  to  this  magnificent  composition. — Taine. 


!8S    THE  BOOK  OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 


The  Annunziata  ^ 

We  went  to  the  church  of  the  Annunziata,  which  stands  in 
thepiazzaof  the  same  name.  .  .  .  The  church  occupies  one  side 
of  the  piazza,  and  in  front  of  it,  as  Hkewise  on  the  two  adjoining 
sides  of  the  square,  there  are  pillared  arcades,  constructed  by 
Brunelleschi  or  his  scholars.  After  passing  through  these 
arches,  and  still  before  entering  the  church  itself,  you  come  to 
an  ancient  cloister,  which  is  now  quite  enclosed  in  glass  as  a 
means  of  preserving  some  frescoes  of  Andrea  del  Sarto  and 
others,  which  are  considered  valuable.  Passing  the  threshold 
of  the  church,  we  were  quite  dazzled  by  the  splendour  that 
shone  upon  us  from  the  ceiling  of  the  nave,  the  great  parallelo- 
grams of  which,  viewed  from  one  end,  look  as  if  richly 
embossed  all  over  with  gold.  The  whole  interior,  indeed,  has 
an  effect  of  brightness  and  magnificence,  the  walls  being 
covered  mostly  with  light-coloured  marble,  into  which  are 
inlaid  compartments  of  rarer  and  richer  marbles.  The  pillars 
and  pilasters,  too,  are  of  variegated  marbles,  with  Corinthian 
capitals,  that  shine  just  as  brightly  as  if  they  were  of  solid 
gold,  so  faithfully  have  they  been  gilded  and  burnished.  The 
pavement  is  formed  of  squares  of  black  and  white  marble. 
There  are  no  side  aisles,  but  ranges  of  chapels,  with  communi- 
cation from  one  to  another,  stand  round  the  whole  extent  of 
the  nave  and  choir ;  all  of  marble,  all  decorated  with  pictures, 
statues,  busts  and  mural  monuments  ;  all  worth,  separately,  a 
day's  inspection.  The  high  altar  is  of  great  beauty  and  richness, 
.  .  .  and  also  the  tomb  of  John  of  Bologna  in  a  chapel  at  the 
remotest  extremity  of  the  church.  In  this  chapt-l  there  are 
some  bas-reliefs  by  him,  and  also  a  large  crucifix,  with  a 
marble  Christ  upon  it.  .  .  The  church  was  founded  by  seven 
gentlemen  of  Florence,  who  formed  themselves  into  a  religious 
order  called   "Servants  of  Mary."  .  .   .  When  we   had  gone 

1  Evelyn  describes  the  Annunziata  in  the  extract  already  given.  Lassels 
wrote  :  "  In  the  cloister  over  the  door  that  goes  into  the  church  is  seen  a 
rare  picture  in  fresco,  of  the  hand  of  Andrea  del  Sarto.  It  represents  our 
Blessed  Lady  with  our  Saviour  upon  her  knee,  and  S.  Joseph  in  a  cumbent 
posture  leaning  upon  a  sack  full-stuffed,  and  reading  in  a  book.  The 
picture  of  the  Blessed  Virgin  is  admirable  for  sweetness  and  majesty." 
Taine  wrote  of  Andrea  del  Sarto,  that,  like  Kra  Bartolomeo,  he  had 
"reached  the  summits  of  art  by  elevation  of  type,  beauty  of  composition, 
simplicity  of  process,  harmony  of  draperies  and  tranquillity  of  ex- 
pression." 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     289 

entirely  round  the  church,  we  came  at  last  to  the  chapel  of 
the  Annunziata,  which  stands  on  the  floor  of  the  nave,  on  the 
left  hand  as  we  enter.  It  is  a  very  beautiful  piece  of  archi- 
tecture— a  sort  of  canopy  of  marble,  supported  upon  pillars  ; 
and  its  magnificence  within,  in  marble  and  silver,  and  all 
manner  of  holy  decoration,  is  quite  indescribable.  ...  In  the 
inner  part  of  this  chapel  is  preserved  a  miraculous  picture  of 
the  Santissima  Annunziata. — Hmvthorne. 


The  Badia  ^ 

We  went  ...  to  the  church  of  the  Badia,  which  is  built 
in  the  form  of  a  Greek  cross,  with  a  flat  roof  embossed  and 
once  splendid  with  now  tarnished  gold.  The  pavement  is  of 
brick,  and  the  walls  of  dark  stone,  similar  to  that  of  the 
interior  of  the  cathedral  [pietra  serena],  and  there  being 
according  to  Florentine  custom,  but  little  light,  the  effect  was 
sombre,  though  the  cool  gloomy  dusk  was  refreshing  after  the 
hot  turmoil  and  dazzle  of  the  adjacent  street.  ...  In  the 
chapel  of  the  Bianco  family  we  saw  .  .  .  what  is  considered 
the  finest  oil-painting  of  Fra  Filippo  Lippi.^ — Hawthorne. 

San  Marco 

The  Church. — The  interior  is  not  less  than  three  or  four 
hundred  years  old,  and  is  in  the  classic  style,  with  a  flat  ceil- 
ing, gilded,  and  a  lofty  arch,  supported  by  pillars,  between  the 
nave  and  choir.  There  are  no  side  aisles,  but  ranges  of 
shrines  on  both  sides  of  the  nave,  each  beneath  its  own  pair 
of  pillars  and  pediments.  The  pavement  is  of  brick,  with  here 
and  there  a  marble  tombstone  inlaid.  It  is  not  a  magnificent 
church ;  but  looks  dingy  with  time  and  apparent  neglect, 
though  rendered  sufficiently  interesting  by  statues  of  mediEeval 
date  by  John  of  Bologna  and  other  old  sculptors,  and  by 

^  Lassels  calls  it  "the  Abbadia,  an  abbey  of  Benedictine  monks.  In 
the  church  is  the  tomb  of  the  founder  of  this  abbey,  a  German  nobleman, 
called  Conte  Hugo,  who  commanded  Tuscany  under  the  Emperor  Otho 
the  Third." 

2  "Fra  Filippo  Lippi,"  writes  Taine,  "a  curious,  exact  imitator  of 
actual  life  ;  carrying  his  works  to  so  high  a  finish,  that  an  everyday  painter 
might  work  day  and  night  for  five  years  without  being  able  to  imitate  one 
of  his  paintings  ;  choosing  for  his  figures  squat  and  rounded  heads,  burly 
figures,  painting  virgins  who  are  sweet,  good  girls  far  removed  from  any 
sublimity  and  angels  who  are  like  chubby,  fat  schoolboys." 

T 


290  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

monumental  busts  and  bas-reliefs  :  also,  there  is  a  wooden 
crucifix  by  Giotto,  with  ancient  gilding  on  it ;  and  a  painting 
of  Christ,  which  was  considered  a  wonderful  work  in  its  day. 
— Hawthorne. 

The  Cloister. — The  custode  proposed  to  shew  us  some 
frescoes  of  Fra  Angelico,  and  conducted  us  into  a  large 
cloister,  under  the  arches  of  which,  and  beneath  a  covering  of 
glass  he  pointed  to  a  picture  of  St.  Dominic  kneeling  at  the 
Cross.  There  are  two  or  three  others  by  the  angelic  friar  in 
different  parts  of  the  cloister,  and  a  regular  series,  filling  up  all 
the  arches,  by  various  artists.  Its  four-side,  cloistered  walk, 
surrounds  a  square,  open  to  the  sky  as  usual,  and  paved  with 
grey  stones  that  have  no  inscriptions,  but  probably  are  laid 
over  graves.  Its  walls,  however,  are  incrusted,  and  the  walk 
itself  is  paved  with  monumental  inscriptions  on  marble,  none 
of  which,  so  far  as  I  observed,  were  of  ancient  date.  Either 
the  fashion  of  commemorating  the  dead  is  not  ancient  in 
Florence,  or  the  old  tombstones  have  been  removed  to  make 
room  for  new  ones. — Hawthorne. 

The  Monastery. — The  monastery  is  still  almost  un- 
touched ;  two  square  courts  in  it  shew  their  files  of  small 
columns  with  arches  supporting  the  old  narrow  tiled  roof.  In 
one  of  the  rooms  is  a  kind  of  memorial  or  genealogical  tree, 
with  the  names  of  the  principal  monks  who  died  in  the  odour 
of  sanctity ;  among  these  is  Savonarola,  and  mention  is  made 
of  his  having  died  through  false  accusation.  Two  of  the  cells 
he  occupied  are  still  shewn. 

Fra  Angelico  came  to  the  convent  before  Savonarola,  and 
his  frescoes  adorn  the  chapter-house,  the  corridors  and  the 
grey  walls  of  the  cells.  He  had  lived  aloof  from  the  world, 
and  amid  new  perturbations  and  doubts  still  lived  the  pure 
life  absorbed  in  God  inculcated  by  the  Fioretti.  .  .  .  His  art 
is  as  primitive  as  his  life ;  he  had  begun  it  with  missal-work, 
which  he  really  continued  on  these  walls,  for  gold,  vermilion, 
the  brightest  scarlets  and  most  brilliant  greens, — all  the  medi- 
seval  art  of  the  illuminator  shines  in  his  work  as  though  it 
were  an  old  parchment.  .  .  .  Around  him  all  action  is  medita- 
tive, and  every  object  gentle  in  hue.  Day  after  day  the  unvary- 
ing hours  bring  before  him  the  same  dark  lustre  of  the  walls, 
the  same  severe  folds  of  cowl  and  frock,  the  same  rustling 
steps  going  to  and  fro  between  the  chapel  and  the  refectory. 
Delicate,  indecisive  sensations  vaguely  arise  in  this  monotony, 
while  tender  dreams  are  like  the  perfume  of  a  rose  sheltered 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     291 

from  the  bitter  winds  and  blooming  far  from  the  great  highway 
noisy  with  the  tread  of  men.  The  magnificence  of  eternity 
becomes  visible,  and  the  effort  of  the  painter  is  centred  on  its 
expression.  Glittering  stairways  of  jasper  and  amethyst  rise 
above  each  other  up  to  the  throne,  where  sit  the  beings  celes- 
tial. Golden  haloes  shine  round  their  brows  ;  their  red,  azure 
and  emerald  robes,  fringed,  bordered  and  striped  with  gold, 
flash  like  glories.  Thread  of  gold  runs  over  the  baldaquins, 
accumulates  in  embroidery  on  the  copes,  shines  star-like  on 
the  tunics  and  glitters  from  the  tiaras,  while  topaz,  ruby  and 
diamond  sparkle  in  flaming  constellation  on  jewelled  diadems. 
Everything  is  bright:  it  is  like  an  outburst  of  mystical  illumina- 
tion. Throughout  this  prodigal  wealth  of  gold  and  blue  one 
colour  prevails,  that  of  sunlight,  of  heaven.  .  .   . 

The  spiritual  here  has  mastery ;  ponderable  matter  be- 
comes transfigured ;  it  has  lost  its  mass,  its  substance  is 
etherialised,  and  nothing  remains  but  a  vapour  floating  in  an 
azure  splendour.  In  one  instance  the  blessed  ones  go  towards 
paradise  over  luxuriant  meadows  strewn  with  flowers  white 
and  red  underneath  beautiful  trees  in  bloom.  ^  They  are  led 
by  angels,  and  in  saintly  brotherhood  form  a  circle,  hand  in 
hand.  The  burden  of  the  flesh  no  longer  weighs  them  down, 
and  light  radiates  from  their  heads  as  they  glide  through  the 
air  up  to  the  flaming  gate  from  which  bursts  a  golden  illumina- 
tion, while  above  Christ,  within  a  triple  row  of  angels  bowing 
before  him  like  flowers,  smiles  upon  the  blessed  from  beneath 
his  halo.  .  .  .  Although  beautiful  and  ideal,  Angelico's  Christ, 
even  in  celestial  triumph,  is  pale,  thoughtful  and  somewhat 
emaciated.  He  is  the  eternal  friend,  the  almost  melancholy 
consoler  of  the  Imitation,  the  poetic  Lord  of  Mercy  as  the 
grieving  heart  imagines  Him  :  He  is  in  no  way  the  over-healthy 
figure  of  the  Renaissance  painters.  His  long  curling  tresses 
and  blonde  beard  mildly  surround  His  features ;  sometimes 
He  smiles  faintly,  while  His  gravity  is  always  associated  with 
gentle  benignity.  .  .  .  Near  Him  the  Virgin,  kneeling  with 
downcast  eyes,  seems  to  be  a  young  maiden  who  has  just  com- 
municated. .  .  .  The  painter  .  .  .  cannot  find  colours  pure 
enough  or  ornaments  precious  enough  for  his  saints.  He 
forgets  that  his  figures  are  but  painted  :  he  bestows  on  them 

^  This  passage  harmonises  best  with  the  Paradise  now  in  the  Accademia, 
It  is  well  known  by  the  circle  of  angels  and  monks  dancing.  Fra  Angelico 
had  not  the  heart  to  paint  the  Inferno  forming  part  of  it,  and  that  is  by  a 
different  hand. 


292  THE    BOOK    OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  fond  devotion  of  a  believer,  a  worshipper.  He  embroiders 
their  robes  as  if  they  were  real,  covering  their  mantles  with 
filigree  as  fine  as  the  best  goldsmith's  work.  He  paints  on 
their  copes  small  but  perfect  pictures  ;  he  delights  in  delicately 
drawing  their  comely  fair  hair,  or  arranging  their  curls,  and 
severely  marking  the  circular  tonsure  of  the  monk.  He  lifts 
them  into  heaven  for  love  and  service  ;  and  his  art  is  the  last 
blossom  of  the  age  of  mysticism. — Taine. 

Minor  Churches 

The  travellers  have  not  taken  the  pains  to  review  all  the 
churches.  There  is  the  San  Salvador  (also  called  Ognisanti) 
with  the  Last  Supper  of  Ghirlandajo  in  the  monks'  refectory 
— this  work  is  not  to  be  confused  with  the  same  painter's 
treatment  of  the  subject  in  the  refectory  of  San  Marco.  The 
church  of  S.  Ambrogio  contains  the  famous  Cosimo  Roselli. 
In  the  convent  of  S.  Onofrio  is  the  Last  Supper^  now 
admitted  to  be  by  Raffaelle,  and  yet  another  rendering  of  this 
theme  is  Andrea  del  Sarto's  in  the  monastery  of  S.  Salvi  near 
the  Porta  S.  Croce.  Mrs.  Jameson  has  contrasted  these 
various  Cenacoli  in  her  Sacred  and  Legendary  Art.  San 
Spirito  contains  the  monuments  of  the  Capponi  family.  The 
monastery  cloister  adjoining  Sta.  Maddalena  de'  Pazzi  has  a 
large  Crucifixion  by  Perugino. — Ed. 

The  Palaces 

The  palaces  may  be  divided  into  those  of  republican  date, 
and  the  modern.  The  former  had  originally  towers,  like  the 
Pisan,  which  were  introduced  towards  the  close  of  the  tenth 
century,  as  a  private  defence  in  the  free  cities  of  Italy.  To 
these  succeeded  a  new  construction,  more  massive,  if  possible, 
and  more  ostentatiously  severe  than  the  Etruscan  itself:  a 
construction  which  fortified  the  whole  basement  of  the  palace 
with  large,  rude,  rugged  bossages,  and  thus  gave  always  an 
imposing  aspect,  and  sometimes  a  necessary  defence,  to  the 
nobility  of  a  town  forever  subject  to  insurrection.  Such  are 
the  palaces  of  the  Medici,  the  Strozzi,  the  Pitti.  This  harsh 
and  exaggerated  strength  prevails  only  below.      The   upper 

1  "  An  early  work,"  wrote  Hillard,  "painted  before  the  great  master 
had  entirely  thrown  off  the  stiffness  and  harshness  of  the  school  in  which 
he  had  been  trained." 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     293 

storeys  are  faced  with  vermiculated  rustics  or  free-stone,  and 
the  whole  is  crowned  with  an  overpowering  cornice  which 
projects  beyond  all  authority,  for  here  are  no  columns  to 
regulate  its  proportions,  and  its  very  excess  diffuses  below  a 
certain  grandeur  distinct  from  the  character  of  any  regulated 
style. — Forsyth. 

Casa  Medici  (Palazzo  Riccardi) 

The  Casa  Medici  is  indescribably  imposing.  It  is  built  of 
hewn  stone  :  its  first  story  is  of  the  Tuscan,  its  second  of  the 
Doric,  and  its  third  of  the  Corinthian  order.  Its  ample 
portals  open  into  a  spacious  court,  whose  portico,  with  a 
sculptured  frieze  by  Donatello,  is  enriched  with  ancient  in- 
scriptions and  basso-relievos.  Changed  as  its  interior  now 
is  by  its  recent  master,  many  of  its  numerous  rooms  and 
corridors  remain  as  they  existed  in  the  time  of  the  early 
Medici ;  and  the  little  family  chapel  is  precisely  in  the  same 
state  in  which  it  might  have  been  left  by  old  Cosimo  and  his 
domestic  dame,  Mona  Contessina.  The  fine  old  carved  oaken 
seats,  on  which  the  heads  of  the  family  were  raised  above  the 
benches  appropriated  to  the  use  of  the  servants,  are  perfectly 
preserved.  The  walls  are  covered  with  curious  old  frescoes,^ 
very  irrelevant  to  the  place ;  and  the  dim  religious  light, 
admitted  through  one  high  casement  over  the  altar,  leaves  this 
little  oratory  in  such  gloomy  obscurity,  that  to  see  the  frescoes 
in  mid-day  we  were  obliged  to  have  a  lighted  flambeau. 

This  mansion  was  built  by  Cosimo  di  Medici,  the  merchant, 
the  "Padre  della  Patria,"  who,  after  the  death  of  his  son 
Giovanni,  foreseeing  the  approaching  dissolution  of  his  sole 
surviving  son  Pietro  (the  father  of  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent 
and  Lorenzo  the  Tenth)  had  himself  carried  through  this  vast 
palace,  exclaiming  mournfully  as  he  surveyed  it:  "Questae 
troppo  casa  a  si  poco  famiglia."  2     Pietro  (during  the  short 

^  Of  the  chapel  with  its  frescoes  by  Benozzo  Gozzoli,  Mr.  W.  D.  Howells 
writes  in  Tuscan  Cities  :  "  Perhaps  the  most  simply  and  satisfyingly  lovely 
little  space  that  ever  four  walls  enclosed.  The  sacred  histories  cover  every 
inch  of  it  with  form  and  color.  .  .  .  Serried  ranks  of  seraphs,  pea-cock 
plumed,  and  kneeling  in  prayer ;  garlands  of  roses  everywhere  ;  con- 
temporary Florentines  on  horseback,  riding  in  the  train  of  the  Three  Magi 
Kings  under  the  low  boughs  of  trees ;  and  birds  fluttering  through  the 
dim,  mellow  atmosphere,  the  whole  set  dense  and  close  in  an  opulent  yet 
delicate  fancifulness  of  design — that  is  what  I  recall." 

^  "This  is  too  large  a  house  for  so  small  a  family." 


294  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

time  he  survived  his  father),  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  and  all 
the  heads  of  the  Medici  family,  continued  to  reside  as  private 
citizens  in  this  patrimonial  mansion,  even  in  the  days  of  their 
greatest  power  :  until  Cosimo  the  First,  when  made  Grand 
Duke,  removed  to  the  Palazzo  Vecchio. 

The  Casa  Medici  was  purchased  by  the  family  Riccardi 
from  the  Grand  Duke  Ferdinand  the  Second,  in  1659,  for  the 
sum  of  forty-one  thousand  scudi.  It  was  then  enlarged, 
changed,  and  refitted,  till  its  ancient  simplicity  was  destroyed  ; 
and  the  immense  sums  expended  on  this  occasion  contributed 
to  the  ruin  of  a  fortune  as  noble,  as  the  house  of  Riccardi  is 
ancient  and  respectable. — Lady  Morgan. 

Casa  Strozzi 

The  Casa  Strozzi,  of  the  same  age  as  the  old  palace  of  the 
Medici  and  the  Pitti,  is  still  more  picturesque  than  either  of 
these  domestic  fortresses ;  and  the  fine  workmanship  of  many 
of  its  details,  and  the  Corinthian  elegance  of  its  cortile,  are 
contrasted  with  the  massive  strength  of  its  facade,  composed 
of  what  the  Italians  call  "bozze  di  pietra  forte."  But  the 
great  interest  attached  to  this  noble  and  ancient  palace  is, 
that  it  was  raised  and  inhabited  by  Filippo  Strozzi,  the  Cato 
of  his  age,  and  by  his  strong-minded  and  ambitious  wife,  the 
famous  Clarice  de'  Medici.  When  the  rank,  the  wealth,  the 
high  consideration  in  which  this  illustrious  citizen  was  held, 
induced  the  people  to  give  him  the  title  oi  Messire,  he  observed  : 
"  My  name  is  Filippo  Strozzi ;  I  am  a  Florentine  merchant 
and  no  more  :  who  gives  me  a  title,  insults  me."  Yet  at  that 
moment  he  held  the  Popes  and  Cardinals  of  the  house  of 
Medici  at  bay.  The  Casa  Strozzi  is  at  present  the  property 
of  Duke  Strozzi.  ...  In  one  of  the  apartments  are  held  the 
sittings  of  the  famed  Della-Crusca.^ — Lady  Morgan. 

The  Rucellai  Gardens  and  Palace 

While  the  Strozzi,  the  Pitti,  and  Medici  were  occupied  in 
raising  those  palaces,  long  destined  to  command  the  admira- 
tion and  wonder  of  posterity,  Bernardo  Rucellai,  a  young 
Horentine  merchant  (so  wealthy,  that  on  his  marriage  with 
Nannina  di  Medici,  sister  to  Lorenzo  the  Magnificent,  thirty 

^  The  Misses  Horner  in  their  Walks  in  Florence  state  that  the  Aca- 
demy of  La  Crusca  now  sits  in  the  library  of  San  Marco. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     295 

thousand  florins  were  expended  on  the  wedding-feast,)  built  a 
palace,  and  planted  and  adorned  gardens,  which  became  the 
site  of  the  Platonic  Academy,  of  which  he  was  the  soul. 
Ofificiating  alternately  as  gonfaliere  and  ambassador  to  Naples, 
he  had  still  time  to  cultivate  letters  ;  and  the  hours  not  given 
to  diplomacy  and  commerce,  were  deliciously  spent  in  these 
gardens.  .  .  .  Under  the  sons  of  Bernardo  .  .  .  the  state  of 
the  country  induced  discussions  of  a  more  important  nature. 
Machiavel  here  read  aloud  to  the  listening  and  ardent  youth 
of  Florence,  his  Discourses  on  Titus  Livius ;  and  Buondel- 
monti  recited  his  opinions  on  the  necessary  reformation  of  the 
government  of  Florence,  which  the  cunning  Leo  the  Tenth 
then  affected  to  approve.  Here,  also,  Savonarola  influenced 
his  auditors  with  his  fanatic  eloquence  in  the  cause  of  liberty 
and  religion ;  Michael  Angelo  described  his  plans  of  national 
defence ;  and  the  Capponi  and  the  Strozzi  staked  their  lives 
and  fortunes  in  their  country's  cause.  It  was  in  coming  forth 
from  these  gardens  that  Agostino  Capponi  and  Pietro  Boscoli, 
two  patriot  youths,  dropped  that  list  of  the  conspirators  against 
the  Medici,  which  brought  them  to  the  scaffold,  and  Machiavel 
to  the  wheel.  .  .  . 

Exile,  torture  and  death  soon  dispersed  the  free  spirits 
which  formed  the  Uterary  and  patriotic  circles  of  the  Orti 
Rucellai ;  and  when  Leo  the  Tenth  visited  Florence,  on  the 
same  spot  where  the  most  fearful  conspiracy  had  been  formed 
that  ever  was  attempted  against  his  family,  the  tragedy  of 
Rosamunda  was  acted  for  his  amusement. — Lady  Morgan. 

Casa  Capponi 

The  palace  of  the  present  Marchese  Capponi  is  not  that 
inhabited  by  his  ancestors  :  it  was  built  after  the  designs  of 
Carlo  Fontana,  and  is  one  of  the  most  magnificent  modern 
palaces  in  Florence.  A  spacious  portico  opens  in  gardens  laid 
out  with  great  taste  and  elegance  :  to  the  left  are  a  range  of 
summer-apartments,  on  the  ground-floor ;  on  the  right,  a  noble 
open  staircase,  with  statues  and  paintings  by  Matteo  Bonechi, 
leads  to  various  suites  of  rooms  above  :  some  of  them  fur- 
nished with  all  the  cumbrous  richness  of  the  seventeenth 
century.  .  .  .  The  apartment  which  fixes  most  steadfastly  the 
attention,  is  the  Grande  Sala,  on  the  first  floor.  This  room 
served  formerly,  in  the  great  houses  of  Italy,  for  all  the  pur- 
poses of  family  festivity ;  and  the  gallery,  which  runs  round 


296  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  upper  part,  and  opens  into  the  second  story,  was  appro- 
priated to  the  domestics  and  inferiors,  who  looked  down  as 
spectators.  In  this  part  of  the  Florentine  houses,  where  few 
chimneys  are  to  be  found,  stood  the  hearth  ;  or  its  place  was 
supplied  by  a  great  braziere,  which  occupied  the  centre.  The 
sala  of  the  Capponi  palace  is  most  remarkable  for  its  walls,  on 
which  are  painted  three  pictures,  representing  events  in  the  lives 
of  the  patriots  of  that  illustrious  house.  The  most  interesting, 
and  the  best-executed  of  these,  is  the  famous  scene  between 
Pietro  Capponi  and  Charles  the  Eighth  of  France.  The  King, 
after  various  successes  in  Italy  (to  which  he  was  called  by  the 
usurper  Ludovico  Sforza),  entered  Florence  with  royal  pomp, 
and  an  immense  military  force,  and  took  up  his  quarters  in 
the  Casa  Medici,  where  he  assumed  the  tone  of  the  Conqueror 
of  Tuscany.  Four  of  the  principal  citizens  were  sent  to  treat 
with  him,  one  of  whom  was  Pietro  Capponi.  But  scarcely 
had  the  Royal  Secretary  begun  to  read  aloud  the  insulting 
terms  of  the  capitulation,  when  the  deputies  shewed  signs  of 
indignation  and  impatience,  and  the  haughty  monarch,  starting 
up,  exclaimed  that  "he  would  sound  the  trumpets  forthwith." 
Then  Pietro  Capponi  snatched  the  treaty  from  the  Secretary's 
hands,  and,  tearing  it  in  pieces,  replied  in  noble  language,  but 
in  bad  French,  "a  vous  trotnpette,  a  moi  cloche" ;  and  turning 
his  back  on  the  King,  went  forth  followed  by  his  fellow- 
citizens,  to  ring  to  arms,  and  to  oppose  the  energy  of  free 
citizens  to  the  military  force  of  a  barbarous  invader.  This  act 
of  Capponi,  perilous  and  imprudent  as  it  was  heroic,  saved  the 
city.  The  inhabitants  made  their  own  terms  and  Charles 
marched  peaceably  out  of  Florence. — Lady  Morgan. 

Palazzo  Corsini 

The  Palazzo  Corsini  is  a  truly  princely  fabric,  though 
raised  in  the  seventeenth  century,  when  all  the  arts  were  in 
degradation.  It  is  of  the  Tuscan  order,  built  after  the  designs 
of  Silvani,  and  forms  a  conspicuous  contrast  to  the  massive 
and  antiquated  edifices  of  the  fifteenth  century.  It  stands  on 
the  Lung-Arno,  and  from  its  ricetto,  or  open  gallery,  com- 
mands the  windings  of  that  beautiful  river,  and  the  valley 
scenery  in  which  it  loses  itself.  A  fine  statue  of  the  Corsini 
Pope,  Clement  the  Twelfth,  to  whose  nepotism  this  princely 
family  owes  its  immense  wealth,  stands  in  this  ricetto. — Lady 
Morgan. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     297 


Casa  Buonarotti 

An  interesting  visit  we  made  at  Florence  was  to  Michael 
Angelo's  house — Casa  Buonarotti — in  theViaGhibellina.  This 
street  is  striking  and  characteristic  :  the  houses  are  all  old,  with 
broad  eaves,  and  in  some  cases  an  open  upper  story,  so  that 
the  roof  forms  a  sort  of  pavilion  supported  on  pillars.  This 
is  a  feature  one  sees  in  many  parts  of  Florence.  Michael 
Angelo's  house  is  preserved  with  great  care  by  his  descendants 
— only  one  could  wish  their  care  had  not  been  shewn  in  giving 
it  entirely  new  furniture.  However,  the  rooms  are  the  same 
as  he  occupied,  and  there  are  many  relics  of  his  presence 
there — his  stick,  his  sword,  and  many  of  his  drawings. — 
George  Eliot. 

Casa  Machiavelli 

The  Casa  Machiavelli  .  .  .  stands  outside  the  Porta 
Romana,  and  crowns  with  Gothic  turrets,  the  summit  of  a 
vine-covered  hill.  This  villa,  raised  by  Machiavelli  in  the 
days  of  his  prosperity,  became  the  refuge  of  his  adversity. 
His  walks  to  this  villa  from  Florence,  he  has  himself  pleasantly 
described.  Here  many  of  his  works  were  written ;  here  he 
struggled  with  great  indigence,  and  died  bereft  of  all  (as  he 
has  himself  described)  save  his  family  and  his  friends. — Lady 
Morgan. 

The  Boboli  Gardens 

I  walked  to  one  of  the  bridges  across  the  Arno,  and  sur- 
veyed the  hills  at  a  distance,  purpled  by  the  declining  sun. 
Its  mild  beams  tempted  me  to  the  garden  of  Boboli,  which 
lies  behind  the  Palazzo  Pitti,  stretched  out  on  the  side  of  a 
mountain.  I  ascended  terrace  after  terrace,  robed  by  a 
thick  underwood  of  bay  and  myrtle,  above  which  rise  several 
nodding  towers,  and  a  long  sweep  of  venerable  wall,  almost 
entirely  concealed  by  ivy.  You  would  have  been  enraptured 
with  the  broad  masses  of  shade  and  dusky  alleys  that  opened 
as  I  advanced,  with  white  statues  of  fauns  and  sylvans  glim- 
mering amongst  them ;  some  of  which  pour  water  into 
sarcophagi  of  the  purest  marble,  covered  with  antique  relievos. 
The  capitals  of  columns  and  ancient  friezes  are  scattered  about 
as  seats. 

On  these  I  reposed  myself,  and  looked  up  to  the  cypress 


298  THE   BOOK   OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

groves  spiring  above  the  thickets  ;  then,  plunging  into  their 
retirements,  I  followed  a  winding  path,  which  led  me  by  a 
series  of  steep  ascents  to  a  green  platform  overlooking  the 
whole  extent  of  wood,  with  Florence  deep  beneath,  and  the 
tops  of  the  hills  which  encircle  it,  jagged  with  pines  ;  here  and 
there  a  convent,  or  villa,  whitening  in  the  sun.  This  scene 
extends  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach. 

Still  ascending  I  attained  the  brow  of  the  mountain,  and 
had  nothing  but  the  fortress  of  Belvedere,  and  two  or  three 
open  porticoes  above  me.  On  this  elevated  situation,  I  found 
several  walks  of  trellis-work,  clothed  with  luxuriant  vines,  that 
produce  to  my  certain  knowledge  the  most  delicious  clusters. 
A  colossal  statue  of  Ceres,  her  hands  extended  in  the  act 
of  scattering  fertility  over  the  prospect,  crowns  the  summit, 
where  I  lingered  to  mark  the  landscape  fade,  and  the  bright 
skirts  of  the  western  sun  die  gradually  away. 

Then  descending  alley  after  alley,  and  bank  after  bank,  I 
came  to  the  orangery  in  front  of  the  palace,  disposed  in  a 
grand  amphitheatre,  with  marble  niches  relieved  by  dark 
foliage,  out  of  which  spring  tall  aerial  cypresses.  This  spot 
brought  the  scenery  of  an  antique  Roman  garden  full  into  my 
mind.  I  expected  every  instant  to  be  called  to  the  table  of 
Lucullus  hard  by,  in  one  of  the  porticoes,  and  to  stretch  myself 
on  his  purple  triclinias  ;  but  waiting  in  vain  for  a  summons  till 
the  approach  of  night,  I  returned  delighted  with  a  ramble  that 
had  led  me  so  far  into  antiquity.  .  .  . 

After  traversing  many  long  alleys,  brown  with  impending 
foliage,  I  emerged  into  a  green  opening  on  the  brow  of  the 
hill,  and  seated  myself  under  the  statue  of  Ceres.  From  this 
high  point  I  surveyed  the  mosaic  cupola  of  the  Duomo,  its 
quaint  turret,  and  one  still  more  grotesque  in  its  neighbourhood 
built  not  improbably  in  the  style  of  ancient  Etruria.  Beyond 
this  singular  group  of  buildings  a  plain  stretches  itself  far 
and  wide,  most  richly  scattered  over  with  villas,  gardens, 
and  groves  of  pine  and  olive,  quite  to  the  feet  of  the 
mountains. 

After  I  had  marked  the  sun's  going  down,  I  went  through  a 
plat  of  vines  hanging  on  the  steeps,  to  a  little  eminence,  round 
which  the  wood  grows  wilder  and  more  luxuriant,  and  the 
cypresses  shoot  up  to  a  surprising  elevation.  The  pruners 
have  spared  this  sylvan  corner,  and  suffered  the  bays  to  put 
forth  their  branches,  and  the  ilex  to  dangle  over  the  walks, 
many  of  whose  entrances  are  nearly  overgrown.     I  enjoyed  the 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     299 

gloom  of  these  shady  arbours,  in  the  midst  of  which  rises  a 
lofty  pavilion  with  galleries  running  round  it,  not  unlike  the 
idea  one  forms  of  Turkish  chiosks.  Beneath  lies  a  garden  of 
vines  and  rose-trees,  which  I  visited,  and  found  a  spring  under 
a  rustic  arch  of  grotto-work,  fringed  round  with  ivy.  Millions 
of  fish  inhabit  here,  of  that  beautiful  glittering  species  which 
comes  from  China.  This  golden  nation  were  leaping  after 
insects,  as  I  stood  gazing  upon  the  deep,  clear  water,  and 
listening  to  the  drops  that  trickle  from  the  cove.  Opposite 
to  which,  at  the  end  of  an  alley  of  vines,  you  discover  an  oval 
basin,  and  in  the  midst  of  it  a  statue  of  Ganymede,  sitting 
reclined  upon  the  eagle,  full  of  that  graceful  languor  so  peculiarly 
Grecian.  Whilst  I  was  musing  on  the  margin  of  the  spring 
(for  I  returned  to  it  after  casting  a  look  upon  the  sculpture), 
the  moon  rose  above  the  tufted  foliage  of  the  terraces.  Her 
silver  brightness  was  strongly  contrasted  by  the  deep  green  of 
the  holm-oak  and  bay,  amongst  which  I  descended  by  several 
flights  of  stairs,  with  neat  marble  balustrades  crowned  by  vases 
of  aloes. ^ — Beckford. 

Primitive  Pictures  in  the  Accademia 

Giotto,  Cimabue,  and  others,  of  unfamiliar  names  to  me,  are 
among  the  earliest.  .  .  .  They  seem  to  have  been  executed 
with  great  care  and  conscientiousness,  and  the  heads  are  often 
wrought  out  with  minuteness  and  fidelity,  and  have  so  much 
expression  that  they  tell  their  own  story  clearly  enough  ;  but 
it  seems  not  to  have  been  the  painter's  aim  to  effect  a  lifelike 
illusion,  the  background  and  accessories  being  conventional. 
The  trees  are  no  more  like  real  trees  than  the  feather  of  a  pen, 
and  there  is  no  perspective,  the  figure  of  the  picture  being 
shadowed  forth  on  a  surface  of  burnished  gold.  The  effect, 
when  these  pictures — some  of  them  very  large — were  newly  and 
freshly  gilded,  must  have  been  exceedingly  brilliant,  and 
much  resembling,  on  an  immensely  larger  scale,  the  rich 
illuminations  in  an  old  monkish  missal.  In  fact,  we  have  not 
now,  in  pictorial  ornament,  anything  at  all  comparable  to  what 
their  splendour  must  have  been.  I  was  most  struck  with  a 
picture  by  Fabriana  Gentile,  of  the  Adoration  of  the  Magi, 
where  the  faces  and  figures  have  a  great  deal  of  life  and  action, 
and  even  grace,  and  where  the  jewelled  crowns,  the  rich  em- 

^  We  have  thrown  together  the  accounts  of  two  different  visits  by 
Beckford,  both  much  in  the  same  key. 


300  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

broidered  robes,  and  cloth  of  gold  and  all  the  magnificence  of 
the  three  kings,  are  represented  with  the  vividness  of  the  real 
thing  :  a  gold  sword  hilt,  for  instance,  or  a  pair  of  gold  spurs, 
being  actually  embossed  on  the  picture.  The  effect  is  very 
powerful,  and  though  produced  in  what  modern  painters  would 
pronounce  an  unjustifiable  way,  there  is  yet  pictorial  art  enough 
to  reconcile  it  to  the  spectator's  mind.  Certainly,  the  people 
of  the  middle  ages  knew  better  than  ourselves  what  is  magni- 
ficence, and  how  to  produce  it ;  and  what  a  glorious  work 
must  that  have  been,  both  in  its  mere  sheen  of  burnished  gold, 
and  in  its  illuminating  art,  which  shines  thus  through  the  gloom 
of  perhaps  four  centuries. — Hawihortie. 

The  Uffizi 

It  was  erected  by  the  orders  of  Cosmo  I.  in  the  year  1564. 
Giorgio  Vasari  was  the  architect ;  it  is  built  in  the  form  of  the 
Greek  letter  IT,  and  is  more  than  five  hundred  feet  in  length ; 
the  court  enclosed  between  the  wings  is  sixty-four  feet  in 
breadth.  This  court  is  regular  in  all  its  parts  ;  on  each  side  is 
a  gallery  supported  by  Tuscan  pillars  ;  one  end  opens  on  the 
great  square  ;  the  other  borders  the  Arno,  and  is  terminated 
by  a  large  arch  which  unites  the  two  buildings  and  forms  the 
communication. — Eustace. 

The  Uffizi  is  a  universal  store-house,  a  sort  of  Louvre  con- 
taining paintings  of  all  times  and  schools,  bronzes,  statues, 
sculptures,  antique  and  modern  terra-cottas,  cabinets  of  gems, 
an  Etruscan  museum,  artists'  portraits  painted  by  themselves, 
28,000  original  drawings,  4000  cameos  and  ivories,  and  80,000 
medals. — Taine. 

The  first  things  that  strike  you  in  the  gallery  itself,  are 
some  glaring  Madonnas  painted  on  wood  by  Greek  artists  in 
the  tenth  and  eleventh  centuries.  These  pictures  are  uniform; 
the  drapery  of  the  Virgin  is  dark,  but  bespangled  with  stars ; 
the  posture  of  the  child  the  same  in  all ;  for  when  the  divine 
maternity  was  acknowledged  at  Ephesus,  the  child  was  then 
first  coupled  with  the  Madonna,  but  the  mode  of  painting 
both  was  fixed  by  the  ritual.  Painting  in  that  age  was  satisfied 
with  producing  mere  forms,  and  did  not  aspire  at  expression 
or  movement.  Conscious  of  her  own  weakness,  she  called  in 
the  aid  of  gold,  and  azure,  and  labels  and  even  relief;  for 
these  pictures  are  raised  like  japan-work.  They  present  all 
the  meagreness,  the  angular  and  distinct  contours,  the  straight, 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     301 

stiff  parallelism  of  attitude,  the  vacant  yet  pretty  little  features, 
which  are  common  to  the  productions  of  unenlightened  art. — 
Forsyth. 

At  first,  every  one  hurries  to  the  Tribune,  and  probably  no 
one  ever  opened  the  door  of  that  world-renowned  apartment, 
for  the  first  time,  without  a  quickened  movement  of  the  heart. 
The  room  is  in  shape  an  octagon,  about  twenty-five  feet  in 
diameter.  The  floor  is  paved  with  rich  marbles,  now  covered 
with  a  carpet,  and  the  vaulted  ceiling  is  inlaid  with  mother-of- 
pearl.  It  is  lighted  from  above.  Here  are  assembled  some  of 
the  most  remarkable  works  of  art  in  the  world.  There  are 
four  statues,  the  Venus  de'  Medici,^  the  Knife-Grinder,  the 
Dancing  Faun,  the  ApoUino,  and  a  group,  the  Wrestlers.  On 
the  walls  are  hung  five  pictures  by  Raphael,  three  by  Titian, 
one  by  Michael  Angelo,  four  by  Correggio,  and  several  others 
by  artists  of  inferior  name. 

When  the  emotions  of  surprise,  delight  and  astonishment 
which  seize  upon  the  mind  on  first  entering  this  room,  and 
take  captive  the  judging  and  reflecting  faculties,  have  some- 
what passed  away,  and  reason  resumes  the  throne  from  which 
she  had  been  for  a  moment  displaced,  we  are  forced  to  admit 
that  objects  too  numerous  and  incongruous  are  forced  upon 
the  attention  at  once.  First  of  all,  it  is  not  well  to  have  the 
eyes,  and  the  mind,  wooed  at  the  same  time  by  statues  and 
pictures  of  the  highest  merit.  The  passionless  and  lunar 
beauty  of  sculpture  has  something  that  in  common  with,  but 
more  that  is  alien  from,  the  sunny  glow  of  painting.  In  the 
natural  day,  moonlight  and  noonday  are  separated  by  a  con- 
siderable interval  of  time  and  by  soft  gradations  of  changing 
light.  Could  we  pass  from  one  to  the  other  in  a  moment,  the 
shock  would  be  nearly  as  great  as  is  felt  on  stepping  from  air 
into  water.  And  in  the  second  place,  the  pictures  themselves 
are  not  congruous;  at  least,  Titian's  Venuses  have  no  business 
to  be  in  the  same  small  room  with  Raphael's  Madonnas.^ — 
G.  S.  Hillard. 

^  We  have  quoted  no  description  of  Venus  de'  Medici.  Byron  voiced 
the  general  admiration  in  Childe  Harold ;  Hazlitt  well  remarked  that  "  the 
Venus  is  a  very  beautiful  toy,  but  not  the  Goddess  of  Love,  or  even  of 
Beauty  "  ;  this  Venus  has  now  ceded  the  place  for  beauty  to  the  Venus  of 
Melos.  No  one  now  would  go  to  Florence  to  study  Greek  sculpture  ;  for 
with  the  discoveries  at  ^gina,  at  Olympia,  and  of  primitive  work  at 
Athens  we  have  far  fuller  material  elsewhere. 

^  This,  of  course,  is  the  Puritan  view.  The  wide  scope  of  Renaissance 
Catholicism,  as  we  have  endeavoured  to  indicate,  found  no  contradiction  in 
pagan  and  Christian  beauty. 


302  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

When  we  look  at  the  antiques  and  the  Renaissance  sculp- 
ture we  are  at  once  struck  by  the  affinity  of  the  two  periods. 
Each  art  is  as  pagan  as  the  other,  that  is  to  say,  entirely  taken 
up  with  the  physical  life  of  the  present.  They  are  contrasted, 
however,  by  marked  divergences  :  the  classic  art  is  a  calmer 
one,  and  when  we  reach  the  best  epoch  of  Greek  sculpture, 
this  calm  is  exaggerated,  it  is  that  of  an  animal,  nay  even  of 
vegetative  life  in  which  man  allows  himself  to  live  without  any 
further  thought  whatever.  .  .  .  On  the  other  hand  the  sculptor 
of  the  Renaissance  imitates  reality  and  expression  with  more 
curious  research,  as  we  see  in  the  statues  of  Verocchio,  Fran- 
cavilla,  Bandinelli,  and  above  all,  of  Donatello.  His  Sf.  John 
the  Baptist  is  like  a  skeleton  worn  to  the  bone  by  fasting.  His 
David,  however  graceful  and  decided  the  figure,  has  sharp 
elbows  and  arms  of  extreme  thinness.  In  the  works  of  all  the 
sculptors  mentioned  personal  character,  passionate  emotion, 
the  dramatic  occasion,  the  personal  will  and  originality  are  as 
striking  as  if  the  statues  were  portraits.  They  are  more 
realistically  alive  than  artistically  harmonious. 

This  is  why,  in  sculpture  at  least,  the  only  masters  who 
give  the  sentiment  of  beauty  in  its  purest  perfection  are  the 
Greeks.  .  .  .  Compare  the  yJ/^r<:?/->7  of  John  of  Bologna  with  the 
young  Greek  athlete  standing  near  him.  The  former,  poised 
on  tiptoe,  cannot  fail  to  delight  the  spectator  while  it  does  the 
highest  credit  to  the  master's  artistic  skill.  The  little  Athenian 
figure,  on  the  other  hand,  says  nothing  and  does  nothing,  is 
content  merely  to  live,  and  is  obviously  a  civic  effigy,  a 
monument  of  some  success  at  the  Olympian  games,  an  example 
for  the  lads  of  the  gymnasiimi :  it  is  educational  in  the  same 
way  as  a  divine  or  a  religious  statue.  Neither  the  god  nor  the 
athlete  needed  any  added  interest,  it  is  enough  for  them  to  be 
perfect  and  calm  ;  they  are  not  a  matter  of  luxury  but  appur- 
tenances of  public  life ;  they  do  not  exist  as  furniture,  but  as  a 
means  of  commemoration.  They  can  be  admired,  they  cer- 
tainly advance  culture ;  but  they  are  not  used  for  diversion 
and  are  above  criticism.  Look  again  at  Donatello's  David, 
so  proudly  erect,  so  unconventionally  attired,  so  finely  serious; 
the  figure  is  not  a  hero  or  a  legendary  saint,  but  a  work  of  the 
imagination.  The  sculptor  is  ready  to  give  us  pagan  or 
Christian  art  to  order ;  his  main  wish  is  to  please  men  of 
taste.  Finally,  consider  Michael  Angelo's  Dead  Adonis  with 
the  head  inclined  on  the  bent  arm,  or  the  Bacchus  raising  his 
cup  and  half  opening  his  mouth  as  if  to  drink  somebody's 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     303 

good  health.  The  two  figures  are  true  to  nature  and  almost 
classical  in  conception ;  but  with  Michael  Angelo  as  with  his 
contemporaries  action  and  dramatic  interest  predominate.^ — 
Taine. 

I  came  by  chance  into  the  room  containing  the  portraits  of 
great  painters.  I  formerly  regarded  them  in  the  light  of  valu- 
able curiosities,  for  there  are  more  than  three  hundred  portraits, 
chiefly  painted  by  the  masters  themselves,  so  that  you  see  at 
the  same  time  the  master  and  his  work.  But  to-day  a  fresh 
idea  dawned  on  me  with  regard  to  them, — that  each  painter 
resembles  his  own  productions,  and  that  each  while  painting 
his  own  likeness  has  been  careful  to  represent  himself  just  as 
he  really  was.  In  this  way  you  become  personally  acquainted 
with  all  these  great  men.  .  .  . 

The  portrait  of  Raphael  is  almost  the  most  touching  like- 
ness I  have  yet  seen  of  him.  In  the  centre  of  a  large  rich 
screen,  entirely  covered  with  portraits,  hangs  a  small  solitary 
picture,  without  any  particular  designation,  yet  the  eye  is 
instantly  arrested  by  it.  This  is  Raphael, — youthful,  pale  and 
delicate ;  and  with  such  aspirations,  such  longing  and  wistful- 
ness  in  the  mouth  and  eyes,  that  it  is  as  if  you  could  see  into 
his  soul.  That  he  cannot  succeed  in  expressing  all  that  he 
sees  and  feels,  and  is  thus  impelled  to  new  endeavour,  and 
that  he  must  die  an  early  death, — all  this  is  written  on  his 
mournfully  suffering,  yet  courageous  countenance.  Looking 
into  his  dark  eyes,  from  whose  depths  his  very  soul  glances 
out ;  looking  at  the  pained  and  contracted  mouth,  we  cannot 
resist  a  feeling  of  awe.—/;  Bartholdy  Mende/ssohn. 

PiTTi  Palace 

I  doubt  if  there  is  a  more  monumental  palace  in  Europe 
than  the  Pitti ;  I  have  seen  none  other  which  leaves  so  simple 
and  so  grandiose  an  impression.  Placed  on  an  eminence  its 
entire  outline  appears  in  silhouette  against  the  clear  blue  sky, 
its  three  distinct  storeys  placed  one  above  the  other,  in  three 

^  Taine's  general  contrast  between  individualistic  Renaissance  and 
religious  or  civic  classical  sculpture  (here  much  abbreviated)  must  be 
extended  to  Gothic  work  too.  In  the  Gothic  as  in  the  classic  age,  art  was 
absolutely  based  on  the  religious  faith  or  the  love  of  the  town.  Taine 
went  too  far  when  he  indicated  that  there  was  no  art  for  art's  sake  in 
Greek  art ;  every  art  in  its  decadence  becomes  art  for  art's  sake.  It  is  not 
possible  to  consider  the  Venus  of  Praxiteles  as  springing  from  the  same 
religious  and  civic  idea  as  the  Athena  Parthenos  of  Pheidias. 


304  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

distinct  masses,  lessening  in  size.  Two  terraces  add  to  the 
mass  by  projecting  crosswise  on  the  two  flanks.  What  is 
most  unique,  intensifying  the  calm  grandeur  of  the  edifice,  is 
the  vastness  of  the  material  of  which  it  is  built.  These 
materials  are  not  stones,  but  fragments  of  rock, — we  might 
say  sections  of  mountains,  for  some  blocks,  those  supporting 
the  terraces  in  particular,  are  as  broad  as  five  men's  measure. 
Rugged,  dark  and  scarcely  hewn,  they  keep  their  first  harsh- 
ness as  a  mountain  would,  if  torn  from  its  foundations,  broken 
to  fragments,  and  erected  in  some  other  spot  by  Cyclopean 
hands. — Tai?ie. 

My  wife  and  I  went  to  the  Pitti  Palace  to-day ;  and  first 
entered  a  court  where,  yesterday,  she  had  seen  a  carpet  of 
flowers,  arranged  for  some  great  ceremony.  It  must  have 
been  a  most  beautiful  sight,  the  pavement  of  the  court  being 
entirely  covered  by  them,  in  a  regular  pattern  of  brilliant  hues, 
so  as  really  to  be  a  living  mosaic.  This  morning,  however, 
the  court  had  nothing  but  its  usual  stones,  and  the  show  of 
yesterday  seemed  so  much  the  more  inestimable  as  having 
been  so  evanescent.  Around  the  walls  of  the  court  there 
were  still  some  pieces  of  splendid  tapestry  which  had  made 
part  of  yesterday's  magnificence.  We  went  up  the  staircase, 
of  regally  broad  and  easy  ascent,  and  made  application  to  be 
admitted  to  see  the  grand  ducal  apartments.  An  attendant 
accordingly  took  the  keys,  and  ushered  us  first  into  a  great 
hall  with  a  vaulted  ceiling,  and  then  through  a  series  of  noble 
rooms,  with  rich  frescoes  above  and  mosaic  floors,  hung  with 
damask,  adorned  with  gilded  chandeliers,  and  glowing,  in 
short,  with  more  gorgeousness  than  I  could  have  imagined 
beforehand,  or  can  now  remember. 

In  many  of  the  rooms  were  these  superb  antique  cabinets 
which  I  admire  more  than  any  other  furniture  ever  invented ; 
only  these  were  of  unexampled  art  and  glory,  inlaid  with 
precious  stones,  and  with  beautiful  Florentine  mosaics,  both 
of  flowers  and  landscapes — each  cabinet  worth  a  lifetime's  toil 
to  make  it,  and  the  cost  a  whole  palace  to  pay  for  it.  Many 
of  the  rooms  were  covered  with  arras,  of  landscapes,  hunting 
scenes,  mythological  subjects,  or  historical  scenes,  equal  to 
pictures  in  truth  of  representation,  and  possessing  an  inde- 
scribable richness  that  makes  them  preferable  as  a  mere 
adornment  of  princely  halls  and  chambers.  Some  of  the 
rooms,  as  I  have  said,  were  laid  in  mosaic  of  stone  and 
marble ;  otherwise  in  lovely  patterns  of  various  woods  ;  others 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     305 

were  covered  with  carpets,  delightful  to  tread  upon,  and  glow- 
ing like  the  living  floor  of  flowers  which  my  wife  saw  yesterday. 
There  were  tables,  too,  of  Florentine  mosaic,  the  mere  materials 
of  which  —  lapis-lazuli,  malachite,  pearl  and  a  hundred  other 
precious  things — were  worth  a  fortune,  and  made  a  thousand 
times  more  valuable  by  the  artistic  skill  of  the  manufacturer. 
I  toss  together  brilliant  words  by  the  handful,  and  make  a 
rude  sort  of  patchwork,  but  can  record  no  adequate  idea  of 
what  I  saw  in  this  suite  of  rooms ;  and  the  taste,  the  subdued 
splendour,  so  that  it  did  not  shine  too  high,  but  was  all  tem- 
pered into  an  effect  at  once  grand  and  soft — this  was  quite  as 
remarkable  as  the  gorgeous  material. — Hawthorne. 

Raphael  in  the  Pitti 

Raphael  is  perhaps  overpraised  by  those  admirers  of  art 
who  are  not  artists,  and  who  judge  of  paintings  not  by  their 
technical  merits,  but  by  the  effect  which  they  produce ;  in 
other  words,  subjectively  and  not  objectively.  All  the  fine 
arts,  poetry,  painting,  sculpture  and  music,  have  something  in 
common;  something  which  all  persons  of  sensibility  feel, 
though  such  airy  resemblances  are  not  very  patient  of  the 
chains  of  language.  In  the  expression  of  this  common 
element,  Raphael  has  no  rival.  Maternal  love,  purity  of  feel- 
ing, sweetness,  refinement  and  a  certain  soft  ideal  happiness, 
breathe  from  his  canvas  like  odour  from  a  flower.  No  painter 
addresses  so  wide  a  circle  of  sympathies  as  he.  No  one 
speaks  a  language  so  intelligible  to  the  common  apprehension. 
.  .  .  The  most  celebrated  of  his  pictures  in  this  collection  is 
the  Madonna  della  Seggiola,  so  widely  known  by  engravings. 
It  is  a  work  of  great  sweetness,  purity  and  tenderness,  but  not 
representing  all  the  power  of  the  artist's  genius.  Its  chief 
charm,  and  the  secret  of  its  world-wide  popularity,  is  its  happy 
blending  of  the  divine  and  the  human  elements.  Some 
painters  treat  this  subject  in  such  a  way  that  the  spectator  sees 
only  a  mortal  mother  caressing  her  child ;  while  by  others,  the 
only  ideas  awakened  are  those  of  the  Virgin  and  the  Redeemer. 
But  heaven  and  earth  meet  upon  Raphael's  canvas  :  the  purity 
of  heaven  and  the  tenderness  of  earth.  The  round,  infantile 
forms,  the  fond,  clasping  arms,  the  sweetness  and  the  grace, 
belong  to  the  world  that  is  around  us,  but  the  faces — especially 
that  of  the  infant  Saviour,  in  whose  eyes  there  is  a  mysterious 
depth  of  expression,  which  no  engraving  has  ever  fully  caught — 

u 


3o6  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

are  touched  with  light  from  heaven,  and  suggest  something  to 
worship  as  well  as  to  love. — G.  S.  Hillard. 


Wax  Figures  (Natural  History  Museum) 

In  the  Florentine  museum  is  a  representation  in  wax  of 
some  of  the  appalling  scenes  of  the  plague,  which  desolated 
this  city  about  the  middle  of  the  fourteenth  century,  and 
which  Boccaccio  has  described  with  such  simplicity  and  power 
in  the  introduction  of  his  Decainerone.  It  is  the  work  of  a 
Sicilian  artist,  by  the  name  of  Zumbo.  He  must  have  been  a 
man  of  the  most  gloomy  and  saturnine  imagination,  and  more 
akin  to  the  worm  than  most  of  us,  thus  to  have  revelled  night 
and  day  in  the  hideous  mysteries  of  death,  corruption,  and  the 
charnel-house.  It  is  strange  how  this  representation  haunts 
one.  It  is  like  a  dream  of  the  sepulchre,  with  its  loathsome 
corses,  with  "the  blackening,  the  swelling,  the  bursting  of  the 
trunk — the  worm,  the  rat,  and  the  tarantula  at  work."  You 
breathe  more  freely  as  you  step  out  into  the  open  air  again  ; 
and  when  the  bright  sunshine,  and  the  crowded,  busy  streets 
next  meet  your  eye,  you  are  ready  to  ask,  is  this  indeed  a 
representation  of  reality?  Can  this  pure  air  have  been  laden 
with  pestilence  ?  Can  this  gay  city  have  ever  been  a  city  of 
the  plague? 

The  work  of  the  Sicilian  artist  is  admirable  as  a  piece  of 
art :  the  description  of  the  Florentine  prose-poet  equally 
admirable  as  a  piece  of  eloquence.  "How  many  vast  palaces," 
he  exclaims,  "  how  many  beautiful  houses,  how  many  noble 
dwellings,  aforetime  filled  with  lords  and  ladies,  and  trains  of 
servants,  were  now  untenanted  even  by  the  lowest  menial ! 
How  many  memorable  families,  how  many  ample  heritages, 
how  many  renowned  possessions  were  left  without  an  heir ! 
How  many  valiant  men,  how  many  beautiful  women,  how 
many  gentle  youths  breakfasted  in  the  morning  with  their 
relatives,  companions,  and  friends,  and  when  the  evening 
came  supped  with  their  ancestors  in  the  other  world  ! " — 
Longfellow. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     307 

ENVIRONS   OF   FLORENCE 
San  Miniato 

A  brisk  walk  of  a  few  minutes  out  of  the  Porta  San  Miniato 
brings  the  traveller  to  the  church  and  convent  of  that  name,  a 
mass  of  buildings  conspicuous  from  their  position  and  castel- 
lated appearance.  The  church,  parts  of  which  belong  to  the 
eleventh  century,  is  an  imposing  structure,  and  is,  to  a  consider- 
able extent,  built  of  the  fragments  of  ancient  Roman  edifices, 
which,  when  we  compare  their  original  destination  with  their 
present  position,  remind  us  of  a  palimpsest  manuscript  from 
which  a  hymn  to  Apollo  has  been  expunged,  and  a  holy  legend 
written  in  its  place.  It  is  well  to  have  Christian  churches 
rather  than  ruined  temples,  if  the  latter  must  be  sacrificed  to 
the  former;  but,  in  a  country  so  abounding  with  accessible 
building  materials  as  Italy,  there  is  no  excuse  for  the  indolence 
or  parsimony  which  destroys  the  monuments  of  antiquity,  in 
order  to  use  their  fragments  for  incongruous  modern  structures. 
Here  are  many  curious  and  interesting  works  of  art,  especially 
by  Luca  della  Robbia,  who  expended  fine  powers  of  invention 
and  design  upon  the  strange  material  of  glazed  blue  and  white 
terra-cotta.  .  .  .  The  remains  of  the  fortifications  raised  around 
the  convent  by  Michael  Angelo,  during  the  last  unsuccessful 
struggles  of  the  citizens  of  Florence  to  throw  off  the  rule  of 
the  Medici  family,  may  still  be  traced.  ...  At  a  short  distance 
from  the  convent  is  a  tower  which  was  used  by  Clalileo  as  an 
observatory,  and  near  the  tower  is  a  villa  in  which  the  illus- 
trious philosopher  resided  and  where  Milton  is  said  to  have 
visited  him. — G.  S.  Hillard. 

FIESOLE 

Of  all  the  objects  that  present  themselves  in  the  immediate 
vicinity  of  Florence,  Fiesole  is  from  its  antiquity,  its  situation 
and  its  celebrity,  one  of  the  most  conspicuous  and  attractive. 
This  town,  under  the  appellation  of  Faesulse,  was  one  of  the 
twelve  Etrurian  cities,  and  seems  to  have  been  distinguished 
from  the  others  by  its  skill  in  the  interpretation  of  omens  and 
prognostics.  It  submitted  with  the  rest  of  Etruria  to  the 
Roman  power  and  was  colonised  by  Sylla.  The  species  of 
colonists  sent  by  this  tyrant  seem  to  have  been  of  no  very 
favourable  description,  and  are  represented  afterwards  as  com- 


3oS  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

posing  the  main  body  of  Catiline's  ruffian  army.  It  made  no 
figure  in  the  civil  wars  or  revolutions  of  the  following  era, 
survived  the  general  desolation  of  Italy  during  the  fifth,  sixth, 
seventh,  and  eighth  centuries,  and  prolonged  its  existence  till 
the  commencement  of  the  eleventh  ;  when,  in  a  contest  with 
Florence,  it  was  destroyed  and  its  inhabitants,  or  at  least  a 
considerable  number,  transported  to  that  city.  However,  the 
cathedral  remained,  and  Fiesole,  now  a  lonely  but  beautiful 
village,  still  retains  its  episcopal  honours,  its  ancient  name, 
and  its  delightful  situation.  Placed  on  the  summit  of  a  lofty 
and  broken  eminence,  it  looks  down  on  the  vale  of  the  Arno, 
and  commands  Florence  with  all  its  domes,  towers  and  palaces, 
the  villas  that  encircle  it,  and  the  roads  that  lead  to  it.  The 
recesses,  swells,  and  breaks  of  the  hill  on  which  it  stands  are 
covered  with  groves  of  pines,  ilex,  and  cypress.  Above  these 
groves  rises  the  dome  of  the  cathedral ;  and  in  the  midst  of 
them  reposes  a  rich  and  venerable  abbey  founded  by  the 
Medicean  family.  Behind  the  hill,  at  a  distance,  swell  the 
Apennines.  That  a  place  graced  with  so  many  beauties 
should  delight  the  poet  and  the  philosopher  is  not  wonderful, 
and  accordingly  we  find  it  alluded  to  with  complacency  by 
Milton,  panegyrised  by  Politian,  inhabited  by  Picus,  and  fre- 
quented by  Lorenzo. — Eustace. 

Fiesole  stands  on  a  hill  precipitously  steep.  The  front  of 
it  cut  into  a  gradation  of  narrow  terraces,  which  are  enclosed 
in  a  trellis  of  vines,  and  faced  with  loose-stone  walls.  Such  a 
facing  may  perhaps  cost  less  labour,  and  add  more  warmth  to 
the  plantation  than  the  turf  embankments  would  do ;  but  it 
gives  a  hard,  dry  effect  to  the  immediate  picture,  which, 
viewed  from  Florence,  is  the  most  beautiful  object  in  this 
region  of  beauty.  The  top  of  the  hill  is  conical,  and  its 
summit  usurped  by  a  convent  of  Franciscans,  whose  leave 
you  must  ask  to  view  the  variegated  map  of  country  below 
you.  The  corridors  command  a  multiplicity  of  landscape  : 
every  window  presented  a  different  scene,  and  every  minute 
before  sunset  changed  the  whole  colouring.  .  .  .  The  season 
brought  a  curious  succession  of  insects  into  view.  On  the 
way  to  Fiesole  my  ears  were  deafened  with  the  hoarse  croak  of 
the  cigala,  which  Homer,  I  cannot  conceive  why,  compares  to 
the  softness  of  the  lily.  On  my  return  the  lower  air  was 
illuminated  with  myriads  of  lucciole  or  fire-flies ;  and  I  entered 
Florence  at  shutting  of  the  gates, 

Come  la  mosca  cede  alia  zanzara. 

— Forsyth. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     309 


PRATOLINO 

We  went  to  Pratolino,  a  villa  of  the  Great  Duke,  some  six 
miles  distant  from  Florence.  Here  we  saw  in  the  garden 
excellent  grots,  fountains,  water-works,  shady- walks,  groves 
and  the  like,  all  upon  the  side  of  a  hill.  Here  you  have  the 
Grot  of  Cupid  with  the  wetting-stools,  upon  which,  sitting 
down,  a  great  spout  of  water  comes  full  in  your  face.^  The 
Fountain  of  the  Tritons  overtakes  you  too,  and  washeth  you 
soundly.  Then  being  led  about  this  garden,  where  there  are 
store  of  fountains  under  the  laurel  trees,  we  were  carried  back 
to  the  grots  that  are  under  the  stairs  and  saw  there  the  several 
giuochi  d"  aqua  :  as  that  of  Pan  striking  up  a  melodious  tune 
upon  his  mouth-organ  at  the  sight  of  his  mistress,  appearing 
over  against  him  :  that  where  the  Angel  carries  a  trumpet  to 
his  mouth  and  soundeth  it ;  and  where  the  Country  Clown 
offers  a  dish  of  water  to  a  serpent,  who  drinks  of  it  and  lifteth 
up  his  head  when  he  hath  drunk  :  that  of  the  Mill  which 
seems  to  break  and  grind  olives  :  the  Paper  Mill :  the  Man 
with  the  Grinding  Stone  :  the  Saracen's  Head  gaping  and 
spewing  out  water :  the  grot  of  Galatea  who  comes  out  of  a 
door  in  a  sea-chariot  with  two  nymphs,  and  saileth  a  while 
upon  the  water  and  so  returns  again  in  at  the  same  door :  the 
curious  Round  Table  capable  of  twelve  or  fifteen  men,  with 
a  curious  fountain  playing  constantly  in  the  midst  of  it,  and 
places  between  every  trencher,  or  person  for  every  man  to  set 
his  bottle  of  wine  in  cold  water  :  the  Samaritan  Woman  com- 
ing out  of  her  house  with  her  buckets  to  fetch  water  at  the 
fountain,  and  having  filled  her  buckets,  returns  back  again 
the  same  way  :  in  the  meantime  you  see  Smiths  thumping, 
Birds  chirping  in  trees.  Mills  grinding :  and  all  this  is  done  by 
water,  which  sets  these  little  inventions  awork,  and  makes 
them  move  as  it  were  of  themselves  :  in  the  meantime  an  organ 
plays  to  you  while  you  dine  there  in  fresco  at  that  table,  if  you 
have  meat.  Then  the  neat  bathing  place,  the  pillar  of  petrified 
water :  and  lastly,  the  great  pond  and  grotta  before  the  house, 
with  the  huge  Giant  stooping  to  catch  at  a  rock,  to  throw  it  to 
heaven.     This  Giant  is  so  big,  that  within  the  very  thigh  of 

^  This  garden  was  entirely  characteristic  of  the  idle  humours  of  an  Italy 
in  decadence. 


3IO  THE   BOOK    OF    ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

ium  is  a  great  grot  of  water,  called  the  Grot  of  Thetis  and  the 
Shell  Fishes,  all  spouting  out  water.^ — Lassels. 

General  Note  on  Florence 

The  attraction  of  Florence  is  evidently  less  immediate  in 
its  appeal  than  that  of  Venice,  and  a  certain  disappointment 
was  expressed  by  Montaigne  on  his  first  visit,  when  he  re- 
marked :  "  I  do  not  understand  why  this  city  should  be  called, 
par  excellence^  the  Beautiful  :  it  is  handsome,  no  doubt,  but 
not  more  so  than  Bologna,  and  very  little  more  so  than 
Ferrara  ;  while  Venice  is,  beyond  all  comparison,  superior  to 
ic,  in  this  respect.  No  doubt  the  view  of  the  city  and  its 
suburbs,  from  the  top  of  the  cathedral,  has  an  imposing 
effect,  owing  to  the  immense  space  which  the  suburbs  occupy, 
covering,  as  they  do,  the  sides  and  summit  of  all  the  neigh- 
bouring hills  for  two  or  three  leagues  round."  On  his  second 
visit,  however,  Montaigne  deliberately  withdraws  his  un- 
favourable opinion  and  admits  the  beauty  of  the  town,  but  he 
does  not  care  to  go  into  any  precise  analysis  of  that  beauty. 
As  a  matter  of  fact,  Florence  is  a  discovery  of  the  last  hundred 
years.  Rome  has  always  had  its  fame ;  Venice,  as  we  have 
shewn,  was  considered  remarkable  in  the  fifteenth  century  ; 
Florence,  if  it  was  admired  before  modern  times,  was  admired 
for  its  political  institutions  and  its  men  of  letters  rather  than 
for  its  monuments. 

The  difficulty  of  a  complete  understanding  of  the  town  is 
that  Florence  has  always  been  essentially  a  City  of  Mystics, 
and  the  temper  of  mysticism  has  had  to  wait  till  our  own  time 
for  its  right  appreciation.  A  mystic  is  not  necessarily  devoid 
of  the  instincts  of  action  :  we  may  take  our  own  Cromwell  for 
the  proof  of  that.  The  mystic,  indeed,  will  not  seek  occasions 
of  quarrel,  but  when  he  is  involved  in  them,  his  action  will  be 
swift   and   unexpected.      While  a  certain    moderation  of  ex- 

1  Other  seats  of  the  Medici  were  Poggio  Imperiale  and  Poggio  a 
Caiano.  The  former  is  within  a  mile  of  P'lorence,  and  is  described  by 
Lassels  as  containing  Albert  Durer's  Adam  and  Eve,  a  Pieta  by  Perugino 
(the  expression  Pieta  always  refers  to  the  subject  of  the  Madonna  with  the 
dead  Christ  on  her  knees  or  outstretched  before  her),  and  an  Assumption 
by  Andrea  del  Sarto.  Poggio  a  Caiano  is  best  described  in  Horner's  IVa/ks 
in  Florence ;  it  contains  the  Triumph  of  Ccesar  by  Andrea  del  Sarto. 
Botticelli's  Primavera  was  formerly  in  the  Villa  Castello,  belonging  to 
Duke  Cosimo.  But  there  is  some  doubt  as  to  the  original  owner  of  the 
work  (see  Plunkett,  Botticelli,  p.  15). 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     311 

pression  will  go  with  full  tenacity  of  purpose,  enormous  im- 
pulses of  hatred  or  revenge  will  balance  the  silent  spiritual  life 
of  inner  reflection.  A  personal  delicacy  and  sweetness  will 
not  be  in  contradiction  to  these  sources  of  strength.  In  the 
end,  no  doubt,  the  mystic  is  bound  to  lose  the  game  to  the 
practical  man  of  action  who  has  neither  scruples  nor  inspira- 
tions, and  the  closing  scene  of  mysticism  may  come  very  near 
to  the  weariness  of  utter  disbelief  either  in  heaven  or  hell, 
complete  disgust  both  for  the  aspirations  or  the  sins  of  men. 
When  the  mystic  dies  young,  he  has  found  his  happiest  fate, 
but  when  he  is  condemned  to  live  on  in  a  world  that  grows 
more  callous  in  seeming,  year  by  year,  his  lot  is  not  to  be 
envied.  Mysticism  is  in  some  ways  the  carrying  on  of  the 
early  innocent  visions  of  youth  into  mature  years,  and  ex- 
perience teaches  us  that  such  a  survival  is  fraught  with  much 
unhappiness. 

But  we  must  distinguish  between  the  mystics  of  Florence. 
Dante  is  pre-eminent  among  them,  and  his  character  and  his 
career  hardly  need  explanation,  except  perhaps  that  we  might 
call  his  exile  from  Florence  the  best  fortune  a  man  of  his 
nature  could  have  had.  Leaving  the  small  centre  of  so  much 
that  was  kindred  with  himself  he  wandered  out  into  a  larger 
world,  and  possibly  learnt  the  tolerance  which  no  Florentine 
ever  practised  at  home.  In  Dante's  great  work  it  is  to  be 
noticed  that  the  passion  of  hatred  never  perturbs  the  current 
of  the  poetry :  no  vulgarity  of  style  accompanies  the  most 
terrific  denunciations  of  human  beings  that  have  ever  been 
penned.  It  is  with  the  clarity  of  the  most  intense  vision  that 
Dante  sees  his  enemies  in  torment  :  the  images  are  so  natural, 
the  punishments  so  appropriate  to  the  crime,  that  we  discern  no 
effort  in  invention  :  we  are  compelled  to  think  that  for  Dante 
the  existence  of  the  spirit-land  was  far  more  real  than  the  rough 
world  of  commercial  and  social  intercourse. 

What  is  true  of  Dante  is  also  true  of  Michael  Angelo,  who 
had  been  brought  to  Florence  in  his  third  year.  If  the  in- 
herited blood  which  took  him  back  to  the  Counts  of  Canossa 
was  not  Florentine,  all  his  artistic  training  belonged  to  the 
city.  It  would  be  most  gravely  to  misunderstand  Michael 
Angelo's  ait — as  also  that  of  the  Renaissance  at  its  highest — 
to  leave  out  the  mystical  inspiration  governing  it.  He 
himself  in  his  poetical  quatrain  written  for  the  figure  of  Night 
shews  us  how  intimately  the  sorrow  of  that  allegory  is  con- 
nected with  the  decay  of    Italian  power.     If  Dante  is  the 


312  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

trumpeter  of  an  Italy  first  conscious  of  its  strength  and  hope- 
ful of  its  unity,  Michael  Angelo  is  the  builder  of  the  tomb  of 
the  great  epoch  of  Catholicism.  Michael  Angelo's  universal 
message  is  to  be  found  at  Rome  in  his  apotheosis  of  the 
Papacy,  but  most  of  his  work  at  Florence  has  the  sign-manual 
of  civic  patriotism,  for  Florence  was  the  mother-city  he  loved, 
and  strove  to  defend,  before  he  symbolised  its  servitude  in  the 
burial  place  of  the  Medici. 

If  we  seek  for  intermediate  masters  interpreting  Florentine 
mysticism  between  Dante  and  Michael  Angelo,  we  shall  find 
them  in  Giotto,  Fra  Angelico,  Botticelli,  and  Andrea  del  Sarto. 
Savonarola  was  a  Ferrarese  by  birth  and  education,  and 
certainly  not  a  Florentine  by  his  hysterical  obscurantism  ;  the 
prior  of  San  Marco  was  perhaps  given  an  exaggerated  im- 
portance in  the  nineteenth  century  owing  to  a  fancied  resem- 
blance of  his  doctrines  to  religious  Liberalism.  The  Christ- 
governed  state  which  Savonarola  sought  to  establish  would  only 
have  become  a  minor  Papacy  ;  and  Symonds  is  probably  right 
in  comparing  Savonarola  to  other  revivalists  like  John  of 
Vicenza,  Jacopo  del  Bussolaro,  and  Jacopo  della  Marca. 
We  do  not  claim  Savonarola  as  a  mystic,  and  we  would  not 
look  upon  him  as  being  any  more  representative  of  Florence 
than  Paolo  Sarpi  was  of  Venice.  Raphael  is  not  typically 
Florentine  either,  and  belongs  far  more  in  spirit  to  Bologna 
than  to  any  other  town.  But  Giotto,  although  he  is  far  better 
to  be  studied  at  Assisi  or  Padua,  the  Blessed  Angelico, 
Botticelli,  and  Andrea  del  Sarto  are  all  of  Florence  and  of  no 
other  town.  We  include  Andrea  because  both  Titian  and 
Michael  Angelo  had  the  greatest  opinion  of  him,  and  the  \iom 
corto  (the  "sorry  little  scrub  "  of  Browning's  poem)  had  the 
same  placid  technique,  concealing  deep  passion,  which  is  the 
character  of  Giotto  and  Angelico.  In  Plorentine  art  we  must 
never  ask  for  the  dashing  vigour  of  action,  the  briny  breeze 
and  sunshine  of  Venetian  painting,  but  rather  a  repressed  life 
and  the  pale  blossoms  of  meditation. 

In  the  mystic  character  of  Botticelli's  art  we  have  an  apparent 
contradiction,  for  his  greatest  work,  the  Frimavera,  is  an  idyll 
of  laughter,  increase  and  love.  We  would  suggest  that  mys- 
ticism is  not  uniformly  sorrowful,  and  the  really  mystic 
temper  will  find  as  much  matter  for  thought  in  happiness. 
We  have  not  found  any  convincing  interpretation  of  the 
Primavera  among  our  travellers,  and  we  would  not  hamper  the 
appreciation  of  such  a  work  by  giving  an  incomplete  estimate. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     313 

Count  Plunkett's  study  of  the  painting  in  his  monograph  on 
Botticelli  is  the  best  to  be  found  outside  the  I'pages  of  the 
text-books.  He  links  the  picture  on  to  the  Platonism  of  the 
period,  and  says  "  this  poetic  allegory  reminds  one  of  the 
brilliant  festivals,  the  Calendimaggio,  celebrated  in  song  and 
play  and  living  processional  tableaux,"  which  were  often  seen 
in  contemporary  Florence.  We  might  say  generally  that 
Botticelli  was  the  mystic  of  decoration  as  Ghirlandajo  was  the 
mystic  of  colour. 

Masaccio  and  Donatello  might  perhaps  be  taken  together 
as  mystics  in  realism.  While  in  other  towns  art  was  always 
obedient  to  the  dominant  power  and  preponderating  life,  in 
Florence  there  gradually  grew  up  a  science  of  painting  for  the 
sake  of  the  art.  Of  this  the  greatest  exponent  was  Leonardo 
(who  possibly  influenced  Giorgione),  but  that  master  can  only 
be  studied,  if  studied  he  can  be  at  all,  in  Milan.  But 
Leonardo  is  not  a  Florentine  of  Florence  as  Donatello  and 
Masaccio  were ;  in  each  of  the  masters  we  see  the  study 
of  life  pushed  to  an  extraordinary  realism.  This  is  no  vulgar 
realism  for  the  sake  of  astonishing  the  multitude,  but  rather 
the  spirit  in  which  Tennyson  looked  at  the  "  flower  in  the 
crannied  wall."  Could  we  but  understand  the  entity  of  one 
flower,  or  one  rain  drop  we  should  understand  the  meaning  of 
all  existence,  and  it  is  from  such  a  mysticism  that  the  realism  of 
Donatello,  in  sculpture,  and  Masaccio,  in  painting,  springs. 
Although  Vasari's  account  of  Donatello's  life  lacks  in  details, 
his  description  of  his  works  in  Florence  is  very  full.  Donatello, 
too,  like  Botticelli,  is  very  ill  represented  by  our  travellers.  We 
do  not  regret  this,  for  the  genius  of  both  is  rather  an  individual 
than  a  national  gift.  Leonardo,  Giorgione,  Botticelli,  and 
Donatello  are  to  be  placed  apart  and  studied  rather  for  them- 
selves than  for  their  expression  of  race.  Italian  they  are  as 
Francois  Villon  or  John  Keats  were  French  or  English,  but 
individuality  in  each  case  cited  seems  to  claim  its  own. 

The  four  great  artists  we  have  named  have  exerted  a  greater 
influence  on  those  actually  engaged  in  the  arts  than  on  the 
public,  but  it  is  necessary  to  point  out  that  those,  who  in 
modern  days  endeavour  to  follow  their  footsteps,  are  placing 
their  ambitions  very  high.  Few  are  so  presumptuous  as  to 
endeavour  to  compete  with  the  unique  masters  who  have 
added  individuality  to  the  national  note.  Yet  the  precious 
gift  possessed  by  some  of  expressing  beauty  is  almost  as 
rare ;  and  those  who  hope  to  belong  to  this  select  class  are 


314  THE    BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

hampering  their  chances  of  popular  success.  In  the  end  every 
craftsman  finds  his  level;  but  the  appreciation  of  the  most 
subtle  form  of  art  is  too  often  confused  with  the  power  of 
achieving  it.  A  painter  or  sculptor  should  think  well  before 
he  endeavours  to  seek  the  exquisiteness  of  quality  which  must 
necessarily  go  with  the  mysticism  we  have  endeavoured  to 
define. 

We  will  not  insist  further  on  this  mysticism,  which  will  be 
better  tested  by  actual  study  in  Florence  than  by  any  literary 
discussion.     Generally  speaking  the  Italians  are  not  a  mystical 
race,  and  the  Etruscan  factor  in  the  Florentine  descent  may 
cause  this  differentiation,   but  we   know  so  little  about  the 
Etruscans,   that   any  hazard  of  opinion    is   dangerous.     The 
scientific  ideas  of  Verrochio  or  of  Machiavelli  seem  in  contra- 
diction   to    our  general  argument,  but  is  it  so  certain  that 
science  does  not  proceed  from  the  mystic  temper  of  searching 
out  hidden  meanings  which  are  unseen  by  the  profane?     We 
may  pass  from  this  to  say  one  word  about  the  Florentine  sense 
of  beauty,  which,  distinctive  as  it  is,  is  so  delicate  that  it  goes 
beyond  definition.     It  may  be  called  vaguely  the  beauty  of 
form  and  of  spiritual  expression.    The  Florentine  masterpieces 
rarely  excel  in  colour  like  those  of  Venice;    they  lack  the 
drama  of  Leonardo's   Cenacoh  or  Velasquez'  great  canvases  ; 
they  have  not  the  worldly  magnificence  of  the  grand  frescoes 
of  Rome.     The  Florentine,  whatever  his  origins  may  be,  is 
the  most  Greek  of  the  moderns  :  Greek,  that  is,  in  realism  and 
its  beauty,  for  Christian  he  must  remain  in   his  aspiration. 
Florentine  art,  with  Dante,  Giotto,  and  Donatello,  has  become 
the  origin  of  a  small  school  of  select  spirits,  and  whoever  joins 
the  rapt  spirit  of  meditation  to  the  sternness  of  physical  truth 
must  belong  to  it.     Fra  Angelico  and  Michael  Angelo  each  is 
at  an  opposite  extreme  of  this  rendering  of  life.     We  would 
call  Goethe  the  nearest  approach  to  it  in  our  own  era  :  the 
English  nature  with  its  sturdy  love  of  action   and  its   rich 
melancholy  humour  rarely  comes  within  that  smaller  compass. 
But    so   elusive    is    Florentine    beauty   that    it  escapes   from 
the  crucible  before  we  can  isolate  it ;  most  of  our  travellers  see 
no  special  quality  to  describe,  and  it  is  only  in  Hawthorne,  the 
mystic  from  New  England,  or  in  Taine,  with  his  scientific  tests, 
that  we  see  any  recognition  of  a  fascination  which  will  be  most 
felt  by  those  who  go  to  the  city  in  the  years  of  dream  between 
youth  and  maturity. — Ed. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     315 


PERUGIA  1 

Perugia  is  a  wonderful  old  place.  Scarcely  one  street  is 
level,  and  all  the  houses  look  as  if  not  a  brick  had  been 
touched  since  the  Caesars.  It  is  the  most  consistently  ancient 
city  I  ever  saw.  The  very  latest  fashions  date  back  three 
hundred  years ;  and  one  feels  quite  relieved  while  contem- 
plating something  light  in  the  Gothic  palaces,  after  seeing  the 
stupendous  antiquity  of  the  Etruscan  walls,  which  certainly 
must  have  been  raised  by  the  Titans  themselves  long  before 
their  disgrace,  somewhere  in  the  time  of  Deucalion  or  Nox. 

I  proceeded  from  the  hotel  into  the  grand  piazza,  where 
stands  the  Duomo,  a  bold  pile  of  Gothic  splendour,  raised 
majestically  on  a  flight  of  marble  steps.  In  the  centre  of  the 
piazza  is  a  beautiful  marble  fountain  of  exquisite  workmanship, 
whence  a  perfect  river  gushes  forth,  splashing  into  a  spacious 
basin  beneath.  Opposite  is  the  Palazzo  Comunale — a  huge 
double-fronted  Gothic  pile,  partly  standing  in  the  piazza,  and 
partly  in  the  great  street  that  opens  from  it.  Here  is  an 
abundance  of  all  the  elaborate  tracery  and  luxuriant  fancy  of 
that  picturesque  age.  Heavily-groined  arched  windows,  solid, 
yet  graceful,  occupy  the  grand  storey ;  while  below,  a  vast 
portal,  profusely  ornamented  with  every  detail  of  mediaeval 
grotesqueness,  opens  into  gloomy  halls  and  staircases.  At  the 
far  end  of  the  piazza  there  is  a  dark  archway,  and  a  descending 
flight  of  steps  going  heaven  knows  where — down  to  unknown 
depths  in  the  lower  town.  What  a  brave  old  square  it  is  ! 
Not  a  stone  but  is  in  keeping. 

I  ascended  the  steps  and  entered  the  Duomo,  where  the 
coup  (toe.il  is  very  imposing,  the  pervading  colour  being  that 
warm  sunlight  tint  so  charming  to  the  eye.     The  nave,  and, 

^  Among  towns  of  interest  to  the  north  of  Perugia  are  Arezzo,  Cortona, 
and  Gubbio.  Arezzo  (the  birthplace  of  Petrarch)  can  be  taken  on  a  trip 
to  La  Verna;  its  cathedral  is  a  fine  specimen  of  Italian  Gothic.  Cortona 
has  remains  of  its  Etruscan  walls,  and  is  described  by  Forsyth  as  follows  : 
"  Cortona,  rising  amidst  its  vineyards  on  the  acclivity  of  a  steep  hill  with 
black  mountains  behind,  struck  me  at  a  distance  like  a  picture  hung  on  a 
wall."  From  Cortona  can  be  seen  the  lake  of  Thrasimene,  the  scene  of 
Hannibal's  great  victory  :  an  interesting  reference  will  be  found  in 
Macaulay's  Life.  Symonds  describes  Gubbio  in  bis  sketches,  and  remarks 
that  its  "public  palaces  belong  to  the  age  of  the  Communes,  when  Gubbio 
was  a  free  town,  with  a  policy  of  its  own,  and  an  important  part  to  play  in 
the  internecine  struggles  of  Pope  and  Emperor,  Guelf  and  Ghibelline." 
This  observation  also  applies  to  towns  like  Perugia  and  Assisi. 


3i6  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

in  fact,  the  whole  interior,  is  very  graceful.  It  is  one  of  those 
buildings  one  can  neither  call  large  nor  small,  from  the  admir- 
able proportions  of  the  whole,  no  inequality  betraying  the 
precise  scale.  Frescoes  there  are  all  over  the  roof,  and  a  few 
choice  pictures ;  one  in  particular,  a  Deposition  by  Baroccio, 
in  a  chapel  near  the  door,  painted,  it  is  said,  while  he  was 
suffering  from  poison  given  him,  out  of  envy,  at  Rome.  This 
picture  has  the  usual  visiting-card,  common  to  all  good  paint- 
ings, of  having  made  the  journey  to  Paris. 

Here,  too,  in  a  chapel,  is  preserved  the  veritable  wedding- 
ring  of  the  Virgin,  which  came,  I  suppose,  flying  through  the 
air  like  her  house  at  Loretto  ;  also  various  other  relics,  all 
more  or  less  fond  of  locomotion.  In  the  sacristy,  or  winter 
choir,  is  a  lovely  picture,  a  Sposalizio  by  Luca  Signorelli :  in 
front  of  the  figures  is  a  tumbler  of  water  with  some  carnations, 
painted  with  a  delicacy  of  which  only  the  old  masters  were 
capable. 

The  more  I  walked  about,  the  more  I  was  charmed  with 
Perugia.  Up  and  down  we  went,  under  old  archways,  and 
through  narrow  streets,  each  more  quaint  than  the  other. 
Whenever  there  was  any  opening,  such  views  appeared — 
mountains  tossed  as  if  by  an  earthquake,  deep  valleys,  great 
walls  built  on  rocky  heights,  massive  fortifications — all  romantic 
beyond  expression.  We  reached  at  last  a  plateau,  called  the 
Frontone,  planted  with  trees,  on  the  very  edge  of  a  stupendous 
cliff.  The  sun  was  just  dissipating  the  morning  mist  ^  over  one 
of  the  grandest  views  on  which  the  eye  ever  rested.  Moun- 
tains, hills,  rocks,  of  every  shape  and  size,  were  piled  one  over 
the  other,  terrace-like ;  while  to  the  right  lay  the  blue  Lake  of 
Thrasymene,  a  calm  and  glassy  mirror  in  the  midst  of  this 
chaotic  confusion.  High  mountains  shut  in  the  view  every- 
where. In  front,  the  rays  of  the  sun  were  condensed  into  a 
golden  mist,  obscuring  all  nearer  objects.  To  the  left  lay  a 
vast  plain,  fat  and  fertile,  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and  honey. 
Before  us  uprose  the  city  of  Assisi,  sparkling  in  the  sunshine, 
seated  on  a  rocky  height,  and  also  backed  by  lofty  Apennines. 
—Mrs.  Elliot. 

^  One  of  the  most  beautiful  landscape  effects  in  Italy  is  to  be  seen 
when  the  autumn  mists  fill  the  Umbrian  valley,  and  the  sun  shines  as  on 
a  sea,  throus^h  which  the  houses  at  the  foot  of  the  towns  are  seen  as  if 
submerged.     Evelyn  has  described  this  on  the  road  to  Rome. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     317 


The  Roman  Gate 

We  came  to  the  Porta  Augusta,  one  of  the  grandest  monu- 
ments in  the  world.  It  is  of  immense  size,  and  formed  of 
uncemented  stones  actually  gigantic ;  the  walls  of  Fiesole  are 
nothing  to  it.  I  cannot  describe  the  solemn  majesty  of  this 
portal  of  unknown  antiquity,  frowning  down  on  the  pigmy 
erections  of  later  ages.  There  it  stands  in  a  glorious  solidity 
until  the  day  of  judgment.  Nothing  short  of  a  universal  con- 
vulsion can  shake  it.  Over  the  arch  are  the  letters  "  Augusta 
Perusia,"  looking  at  a  distance  like  some  cabalistic  charm. 
On  the  left  are  an  open  gallery  and  two  massive  towers. — 
Mrs.  Elliot. 

The  Cambio 

...  It  is  the  same  thing  with  Perugino  as  with  Van  Eyck  : 
their  bodies  belong  to  the  Renaissance,  their  souls  to  the 
Middle  Ages.  This  is  .  .  .  apparent  in  the  Cambio,  a  kind 
of  exchange  or  Guildhall  of  the  merchants.  Perugino  was 
entrusted  with  its  decoration  in  the  year  1500;  and  he  has 
placed  here  a  "Transfiguration,"  an  "Adoration  of  the 
Shepherds,"  Sibyls,  Prophets,  Leonidas,  Socrates,  and  other 
pagan  heroes  and  philosophers,  a  St.  John  over  the  altar,  and 
Mars  and  Jupiter  on  the  archway.  Alongside  of  this  is  a 
chapel  wainscoted  with  carved  wood,  gilded  and  painted,  with 
the  Eternal  Father  in  the  centre,  and  various  arabesques  of 
graceful  allegoric  figures  on  the  cruppers  of  lions.  Can  the 
confluence  of  two  ages  be  better  realised,  the  intermingling  of 
ideas,  the  bloom  of  a  new  paganism  underneath  a  decrepit 
Christianity  ?  .  .  .^ 

First  comes  a  "  Nativity,"  under  a  lofty  portico,  with  a 
landscape  of  slender  trees.  ...  It  is  a  picture  of  etherial 
meditation,  calculated  to  make  us  fall  in  love  with  a  contem- 
plative life.  We  cannot  too  highly  commend  the  modest 
gravity,  the  mute  nobility  of  the  Virgin  kneeling  before  her 
infant.  Three  large  serious  angels  on  a  cloud  are  singing 
from  a  sheet  of  music  :  their  simplicity  takes  the  mind  back 
to  the  age  of  the  mystics.  But  if  we  turn  we  see  figures  of 
an  altogether  different  character.  The  master  has  been  to 
Florence,  and  its  antiques,  its  nudes,  its  figures  of  imposing 
action  and  spirited  intention  are  new  to  him,  revealing  another 

1  The  text  following  has  been  transposed  for  convenience. 


3iS  THE   BOOK  OF   ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

world.  Reproducing  it  with  some  hesitation,  he  is  enticed 
away  from  the  paths  he  first  trod.  Each  of  the  six  prophets, 
the  five  sibyls,  warriors  and  pagan  philosophers  is  a  master- 
piece of  power  and  physical  grandeur.  He  does  not  imitate 
Greek  types  or  costumes,  for  complicated  helms,  strange  head- 
dresses and  chivalric  reminiscences  are  oddly  intermingled 
with  the  draped  or  undraped  figures ;  it  is  the  feeling  which  is 
antique.  These  are  strong  men  content  with  existence,  and 
not  pious  souls  dreaming  of  heaven.  The  sibyls  are  all 
radiant  with  beauty  and  youth ;  the  first  of  them  advancing 
with  a  carriage  and  form  of  royal  grandeur  and  stateliness. 
Every  whit  as  noble  and  grand  is  the  prophet-king  who  faces 
them.  The  seriousness  and  elevation  of  these  figures  is  un- 
matchable.  At  this  dawn  of  imaginative  art,  the  face,  still 
unclouded,  preserves  a  simplicity  and  immobility  of  primitive 
expression  like  that  of  Greek  statuary.  .  .  .  Man  is  not  broken 
up  into  petty,  varying  and  fleeting  thoughts  ;  the  character  is 
made  prominent  by  unity  and  repose. 

Merchants  in  long  robes  used  to  sit  in  council  on  the 
wooden  seats  of  this  narrow  hall ;  before  opening  their 
deliberations,  they  knelt  down  in  the  little  adjoining  chapel  to 
hear  mass.  There  Gian  Niccola  Manni  painted  on  the  two 
sides  of  the  hiiih  altar  the  delicately  animated  figures  of  his 
"Annunciation,"  an  ample  Herodias,  with  several  gracefully 
erect  young  women,  slight  and  charming,  and  making  us 
understand  the  spiritual  health  of  the  painter's  youthful 
vitality.  While  joining  in  the  droning  hum  of  the  responses, 
or  following  the  sacred  gestures  of  the  officiating  priest,  more 
than  one  of  the  worshippers  must  have  let  his  eyes  wander  up 
to  the  rosy  torso  of  the  little  chimseras  crouching  on  the 
ceiling,  the  work,  according  to  the  local  tradition,  of  a  young 
man  of  great  promise,  the  favourite  pupil  of  the  master : 
Raphael  Sanzio  d'Urbino. — Taine. 

ASSISI 

There  are  three  churches,^  one  above  the  other,  all  of  them 
arranged  in  connection  with  the  tomb  of  St.  Francis.     Over 

'  Italian  pointed  Gothic  begins 'in  this  church  of  San  Francesco  ;  but 
no  Gothic  architecture  such  as  we  see  in  the  northern  cathedrals  must  be 
sought  in  Italy.  The  church  at  Assisi  retains  many  of  the  older  forms, 
and  before  Gothic  was  much  used  elsewhere  Tkamante  introduced  the 
newer  order.     In  fact,  between  Romanesque  and  early  Renaissance  there 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     319 

that  venerated  body,  which  the  people  believe  to  be  ever  living 
and  absorbed  in  prayer  at  the  bottom  of  an  inaccessible  cave, 
the  edifice  has  arisen,  gloriously  blossoming  like  an  architec- 
tural shrine.  The  lowest  is  a  crypt,  dark  as  a  sepulchre,  into 
which  visitors  go  down  with  torches;  pilgrims  keep  close  to 
the  dripping  walls  and  grope  along  to  reach  the  grating.  Here 
is  the  tomb,  in  a  pale  dim  light  like  that  of  Limbo.  A  few 
brass  lamps,  scarcely  giving  light,  burn  forever  like  stars  lost 
in  mournful  gloom.  The  rising  smoke  clings  to  the  arches, 
and  the  heavy  scent  of  the  tapers  mingles  with  that  of  the 
cave.  The  guide  trims  his  torch,  and  its  sudden  gleam  in  this 
oppressive  darkness  above  the  bones  of  a  corpse,  is  like  a 
Dantesque  vision.  Here  is  the  mystical  grave  of  a  saint,  who, 
in  the  midst  of  corruption  and  the  worm  devouring  has  his 
sorrowful  earthly  prison  filled  with  the  supernatural  radiance 
of  the  Saviour. 

Words  cannot  give  any  conception  of  the  middle  church,  a 
long,  low  vault  upheld  by  small  rounded  arches  curving  in 
half-shadow,  with  a  purposed  depression  which  forces  us  to 
our  knees.  A  coating  of  sombre  blue  and  of  reddish  bands 
starred  with  gold,  a  marvellous  embroidery  of  ornaments, 
wreaths,  delicate  scroll-work,  leaves  and  painted  figures, 
covers  the  arches  and  ceilings  with  its  harmonious  and  over- 
whelming variety.  An  entire  population  of  figures  and  colours 
lives  on  these  walls.  .  .  .  There  is  no  Christian  monument 
where  pure  mediaeval  ideas  reach  the  mind  under  so  many 
forms,  explaining  each  other  and  so  many  contemporary  mas- 
terpieces. Over  the  altar,  enclosed  with  an  elaborate  iron 
and  bronze  railing,  Giotto  has  covered  an  elliptic  arch  with 
grand,  calm  figures  and  mystic  allegories.  There  is  St.  Francis 
receiving  Poverty  as  spouse  from  the  hands  of  Christ ;  Chastity 
vainly  besieged  in  a  crenellated  fortress,  and  adored  by  angels  ; 
Obedience  under  a  canopy,  surrounded  by  saints  and  kneel- 
ing angels ;  St.  Francis,  glorified  in  the  gilded  mansion  of  a 
deacon,  and  enthroned  in  the  midst  of  celestial  virtues  and 
chanting  cherubim.  .  .  . 

On  the  summit,  the  upper  church  shoots  up  as  aerially 
triumphant  as  the  lower  is  gloomy.  Truly,  if  we  sought  their 
meaning,  we  might  say  that  in  these  three  sanctuaries  the 
architect  meant  to  represent  the  three  worlds:  below  the  gloom 

is  a  very  short  period  in  Italy.  Of  the  cathedral  (earlier  than  the  San 
Francesco),  of  Sta.  Chiara  and  St.  Damiano — the  nunnery  of  St.  Clare — 
we  have  found  no  sufficient  accounts. 


320  THE    BOOK   OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

of  death  and  the  horrors  of  the  sepulchre  under  the  earth  ;  in 
the  middle,  the  impassioned  struggle  of  the  Christian  militant, 
striving  and  hoping  in  this  world  of  probation  ;  above,  the 
bliss  and  dazzling  glory  of  Paradise.  This  latter,  soaring  in 
the  bright  air,  tapers  its  columns,  narrows  its  ogives,  refines  its 
arches,  mounting  upward  and  on  in  the  glory  and  full  light  of 
its  lofty  windows,  by  radiance  of  its  rosaces,  of  its  stained  glass, 
by  the  gilded  stars  which  flash  through  arches  and  vaults  that 
once  confined  the  beatified  beings  and  sacred  narratives  with 
which  it  is  painted  from  floor  to  ceiling.  Time  has  no  doubt 
undermined  them,  some  of  the  frescoes  are  decayed,  and  their 
azure  is  tarnished  ;  but  the  mind  easily  restores  what  is  lost 
for  the  eye,  and  we  once  more  behold  their  angelic  glory  as  it 
burst  forth  six  hundred  years  ago. — Taifie. 

Santa  Maria  degli  Angeli 

We  now  turned  to  contemplate  the  noble  and  spacious 
church  of  Santa  Maria  degli  Angeli,  raised  by  the  faithful  over 
the  rustic  cell  where  St.  Francis  loved  to  offer  up  his  devotions. 
Originally  it  was  a  solitary  cave,  where  he  could  retire  unseen 
by  every  human  eye,  and  abandon  himself  to  those  raptures 
which  history  scarce  knows  whether  to  denominate  madness 
or  ecstatic  holiness.  Here  he  passed  days,  nay,  even  weeks, 
rapt  in  the  contemplation  of  heavenly  beatitude.  On  this 
spot,  therefore,  uprose  the  parent  church  which  now  lends  so 
noble  a  feature  to  the  surrounding  plain.  It  is  constructed  so 
as  to  enclose  his  original  chapel  and  cell  within  its  walls.  The 
interior  is  perhaps  too  bare,  from  the  excessive  whiteness  and 
simplicity  of  the  massive  pillars  ;  but  its  size  is  commanding, 
and  a  noble  dome  rises  in  the  centre.  The  present  building 
is  modern,  the  original  church  having  been  almost  entirely  de- 
stroyed in  1832  by  an  earthquake;  which,  however,  respected 
the  altar  and  cell  of  St.  Francis — a  circumstance  his  followers  oi 
course  attribute  to  a  miracle.  That  more  sacred  portion  of  the 
church  is  railed  off  and  locked  up.  While  waiting  for  the 
sacristano,  who  was  at  dinner,  I  again  fell  a  victim  to  some 
straggling  beggars  in  the  church  ;  especially  to  a  woman  in  the 
pretty  Romagnesque  costume,  who  pulled  my  cloak  so  persever- 
ingly  I  was  forced  into  attention.  She  informed  me  that,  at 
the  grand  annual  festa,  ten  or  twelve  thousand  persons  are 
frequently  present,  drawn  from  all  the  surrounding  country  by 
enthusiasm   for  the  native  saint.     So  immense,  indeed,  she 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     321 

said,  was  the  crowd,  that  persons  were  frequently  suffocated 
on  these  anniversaries.  What  the  beggars  must  be  on  these 
solemn  occasions  I  leave  to  the  imagination  of  my  readers  ;  1 
confess  myself  quite  at  fault.  At  last  the  Franciscan  brother 
appeared  with  the  keys,  and  we  entered  the  penetralia  behind 
the  screen.  The  deepest  devotion  was  apparent  in  this  man's 
deportment,  as  well  as  in  that  of  others  who  chanced  to  pass 
us.  He  never  mentioned  the  saint  but  in  a  whisper,  at  the 
same  time  raising  his  cap ;  and  looked  evidently  with  an 
annoyed  and  jealous  eye  at  our  intruding  on  the  sacred  pre- 
cincts, heretics  and  unclean  schismatics  as  we  were.  Near  the 
grand  altar  is  a  small  recess,  where,  as  I  understood,  St.  Francis 
died  :  paintings  cover  the  walls,  and  a  lamp  burns  there  per- 
petually. The  brother  seemed  to  look  on  the  spot  with  such 
devotion,  I  could  not  trouble  him  by  a  too  impertinent 
curiosity.  But  the  most  interesting  portion  of  the  building  is 
St.  Francis'  cell,  outside  the  church,  in  a  small  court  at  the  end 
of  a  long  stone  passage,  now  converted  into  a  chapel.  Under 
the  altar  there  is  a  deep  narrow  hole,  visible  through  bars  of 
iron,  where  the  saint  performed  his  flagellations,  and  lay  as  a 
penance  for  hours  and  days  without  eating  or  speaking.  The 
legend  goes  that  the  instrument  of  flagellation  was  the  stem 
of  a  white  rose-bush,  growing  in  a  little  garden  hard  by  (still 
existing),  and  that  after  his  blood  had  tinged  the  broken 
branch  the  tree  ever  afterwards  blossomed  of  a  deep  red. — 
Mrs.  Elliot. 

Le  Carceri 

Behind  Assisi  rises  in  an  immense  mass  one  of  the  advanced 
bulwarks  of  the  Apennine  chain,  called  Subasio.  ...  On  the 
nearly  precipitous  face  of  this  mountain,  at  a  distance  of  about 
three  miles  and  a  half  from  Assisi,  is  the  Santuario  delle  Carceri. 
The  walk  thither, — or  ride  if  the  traveller  please,  but  wheels  are 
out  of  the  question — is  a  very  pleasing  one,  commanding  dur- 
ing its  whole  length  a  noble  terrace-view  of  the  beautiful  vale 
of  Umbria,  and  the  varied  outlines  of  the  mountains,  which 
enclose  it  to  the  south  and  south-west.  A  little  stream  has 
eaten  many  a  deep  ravine  in  the  rugged  front  of  the  mountain, 
and  has  deposited  soil  enough  on  its  sides  to  favour  the  growth 
of  a  small  grove  of  ilex  and  other  trees,  which  forms  a  veritable 
oasis  amid  the  bleak  and  stern  nakedness  of  the  vast  slope  of 
the  mountain.  This  is  the  site  of  the  little  priory  of  I.e 
Carceri.  ...  An  overhanging  ledge  of  rock,  harder  and  offer- 

X 


32  2    THE  BOOK  OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

ing  greater  opposition  to  the  action  of  the  weather,  than  the 
stratum  immediately  below  it,  forms  a  sort  of  grotto  into  which 
the  buildings  of  the  monastery  have  been  niched ;  while  three 
or  four  caverns  hollowed  out  of  the  rock  at  different  altitudes 
by  the  action  of  the  little  stream  at  some  period,  when  its 
waters  were  much  more  abundant  and  more  violent  than  they 
are  at  present,  serve  for  as  many  little  chapels,  each  more 
intensely  holy  than  the  other  and  each  sanctified  by  some 
special  anecdote  of  the  saint's  presence.  A  tiny  paved  court, 
in  front  of  the  main  grotto,  surrounded  by  a  humble  range  of 
little  cells,  now  vacant  (for  the  community  is  not  numerous 
enough  to  occupy  them)  and  a  picturesque  old  covered  gate- 
way, approached  by  an  ivy-grown  bridge  across  the  ravine, 
completes  the  dausura,  and  supplies  the  absolutely  essential 
means  of  excluding  the  outside  world,  or  at  least  the  female 
half  of  it,  from  the  sacred  precincts.  At  one  part  of  the 
enclosure  of  the  little  court,  it  should  be  observed,  at  a  place 
where  a  precipitous  fall  of  the  hill-side  makes  more  complete 
enclosure  superfluous,  the  continuity  of  the  clausura  is  main- 
tained only  by  a  low  parapet  wall  on  the  brink  of  the  precipice, 
thus  admitting  air  and  sunshine  into  the  court,  and  affording 
the  inmates  a  view  over  the  lovely  valley.  In  the  middle  of 
this  court  was  a  picturesque  well,  with  its  little  antique  copper 
bucket,  full  of  the  beautiful  cool  and  clear  water  of  the  spring 
below.— r.  A.  Trollope. 

LA  VERNA 

Nel  crudo  sasso  infra  Tever  ed  Arno 

Da  Christo  prese  1'  ultimo  sigillo  ; 
Che  le  sue  membra  due  anne  portarno. — Dante. 

This  singular  convent  which  stands  on  the  cliff  of  a  lofty 
Apennine,  was  built  by  Saint  Francis  himself,  and  is  celebrated 
for  the  miracle  which  the  motto  records.  Here  reigns  all  the 
terrible  of  nature  :  a  rocky  mountain,  a  ruin  of  the  elements, 
broken,  sawn  and  piled  in  sublime  confusion ;  precipices 
crowned  with  old,  gloomy  visionary  woods ;  black  chasms  in 
the  rock  where  curiosity  shudders  to  look  down ;  haunted 
caverns  sanctified  by  miraculous  crosses  ;  long  excavated  stairs 
that  restore  you  to  daylight.   .  .  . 

On  entering  the  chapel  of  the  Stigmata  we  caught  the 
religion  of  the  place ;  we  knelt  round  the  rail,  and  gazed  with 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     323 

a  kind  of  local  devotion  at  the  holy  spot  where  St.  Francis 
received  the  five  wounds  of  Christ.  The  whole  hill  is  legen- 
dary ground.^ — Forsyth. 

SIENA 

There  are  many  playne  brick  towers  erected  for  defence 
when  this  was  a  free  state.  The  highest  is  called  the  Mangio, 
standing  at  the  foote  of  the  Piazza,  which  we  went  first  to  see 
after  our  arrival.  At  the  entrance  of  this  tower  is  a  Chapel, 
open  towards  the  Piazza,  of  marble  well  adorn'd  with  sculpture. 

On  the  other  side  is  the  Signoria,  or  Court  of  Justice,  well 
built  a  la  tnoderna  of  brick ;  indeed  the  bricks  of  Sienna  are 
so  well  made  that  they  look  almost  as  well  as  porphyrie 
itselfe,  having  a  kind  of  natural  polish. 

In  the  Senate  House  is  a  very  faire  halle  where  they  some- 
times entertain  the  people  with  publiq  shews  and  operas  as 
they  call  them.  Towards  the  left  are  the  statues  of  Romulus 
and  Remus  with  the  Wolf,  all  of  brasse,  plac'd  on  a  columne 
of  ophite  stone  which  they  report  was  brought  from  the 
renowned  Ephesian  Temple.  These  ensignes  being  the  armes 
of  the  towne,  are  set  up  in  divers  of  the  streetes  and  publiq 
wayes  both  within  and  far  without  the  citty. 

The  Piazza  compasses  the  faciata  of  the  Court  and  Chapel, 
and  being  made  with  descending  steps,  much  resembles  the 
figure  of  an  escalop  shell.  The  white  ranges  of  pavement 
intermix'd  with  the  excellent  bricks  above  mentioned,  with 
which  the  town  is  generally  well-paved,  render  it  very  clean. 
About  this  market-place  (for  so  it  is)  are  many  faire  palaces, 
though  not  built  with  excesse  of  elegance.  There  stands  an 
Arch  the  worke  of  Baltazar  di  Sienna,  built  with  wonderfuU 

^  Laverna  (north-east  of  Arezzo)  is,  except  for  the  wonderful  Delia 
Robbias,  mainly  of  interest  for  the  Stigmata  of  St.  Francis.  It  has  been 
described  by  Eustace,  and  latterly  Mr.  Montgomery  Carmichael.  We  now 
trend  back  to  the  west,  to  Siena.  Many  travellers,  however,  went  from 
Assisi  to  Rome  by  the  road  leading  through  Foligno,  Spoleto,  and  Terni. 
The  Earl  of  Perth  describes  the  plain  of  Foligno  as  "  a  delightful  valley  .  .  . 
the  trees  set  regularly,  full  of  vines  and  silk,  the  ground  filled  either  with 
clover  in  flower  or  wheat,  the  river  Clitumnus  of  the  ancients  and  brooks 
winding  through  the  valley  and  enriching  it."  Shelley  calls  Spoleto  "  the 
most  romantic  city  I  ever  saw.  There  is  here  an  aqueduct  of  astonishing 
elevation,  which  unites  two  rocky  mountains — there  is  the  path  of  a  torrent 
below."  He  also  describes  the  cataract  of  Terni.  The  famous  palace  of 
Caprarola  nearer  Rome  was  seen  by  Montaigne,  who  writes  of  it  in  much 
the  same  terms  as  Lassels  does  of  Pratolino. 


324  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

ingenuity  so  that  it  is  not  easy  to  conceive  how  it  is  supported, 
yet  it  has  some  imperceptible  contignations  which  do  not 
betray  themselves  easily  to  the  eye.  On  the  edge  of  the 
Piazza  is  a  goodly  fountaine  beautified  with  statues,  the  water 
issuing  out  of  the  wolves  mouths,  being  the  worke  of  Jacobo 
Quercei,  a  famous  artist.  There  are  divers  other  publiq  foun- 
taines  in  the  Citty,  of  good  designe. 

The  Sapienza  is  the  University,  or  rather  CoUedg,  where 
the  High  Germans  enjoy  many  particular  privileges  when  they 
addict  themselves  to  the  Civil  Law.  This  place  has  produced 
many  excellent  scholars,  besides  those  three  Popes,  Alexander, 
Pius  the  Ilnd  and  the  Ilird  of  that  name,  the  learned  yEneas 
Sylvius,  and  both  were  of  the  antient  house  of  the  Piccolomini. 

The  chiefe  streete  is  called  Strada  Romana,  in  which  Pius 
the  Ilnd  has  built  a  most  stately  Palace  of  square  stone  with 
an  incomparable  portico  joyning  neere  to  it.  The  town  is 
com'anded  by  a  Castle  which  hath  four  bastions  and  a  garison 
of  souldiers.  Neere  it  is  a  List  to  ride  horses  in,  much 
frequented  by  gallants  in  summer. 

Not  far  from  hence  is  the  Church  and  Convent  of  the 
Dominicans,  where  in  the  Chapel  of  St.  Catherine  of  Sienna  ^ 
they  shew  her  head,  the  rest  of  her  body  being  translated  to 
Rome.  The  Domo  or  Cathedral,  both  without  and  within, 
is  of  large  square  stones  of  black  and  white  marble  polish'd, 
of  inexpressible  beauty,  as  is  the  front  adorn'd  with  sculpture 
and  rare  statues.  In  the  middle  is  a  stately  cupola  and  two 
columns  of  sundry  streaked  colour'd  marble.  About  the  body 
of  the  Church  on  a  cornice  within,  are  inserted  the  heads  of 
all  the  Popes.  The  pulpit  is  beautified  with  marble  figures,  a 
piece  of  exquisite  worke ;  but  what  exceeds  all  description  is 
the  pavement,  where  (besides  the  various  emblemes  and  other 
figures  in  the  nave)  the  quire  is  wrought  with  the  History  of 
the  Bible,  so  artificially  express'd  in  the  natural  colours  of  the 
marbles  that  few  pictures  exceede  it.  Here  stands  a  Christo 
rarely  cut  m  marble,  and  on  the  large  high  Altar  is  a  brasen 
vessell  of  admirable  invention  and  art.  The  organs  are  ex- 
ceeding sweete  and  well  tun'd.  On  the  left  side  of  the  altar 
is  the  I.ibrary,  where  are  painted  the  acts  of  ^Eneas  Sylvius 
and  others. — Evelyn. 

1  The  house  of  St.  Catherine  has  a  series  of"  modern  pictures  of  her  life, 
mainly  of  interest  for  the  fact  that  such  work  should  still  be  undertaken. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     325 

The  Duomo 

At  Siena  the  great  church  is  one  of  the  finest  in  Italy. 
The  arms  of  the  town  is  a  shield  with  one  half  (the  upper 
part)  white  and  the  lower  black,  so  they  have  built  the  church 
without  and  wi*hin  of  black  and  white  polished  marble.  .  .  . 
I  saw  all  the  floor  uncovered,  and  it  is  the  curiousest  piece  of 
mosaique  imaginable,  and  of  a  new  kind,  for  the  pieces  that 
compose  it  are  all  very  great,  and  they  have  only  white,  dark, 
and  gray  marble ;  but  the  lights  and  sheadows  are  done  so  as 
to  please  the  eye  very  much.  There  is  a  jubbe  of  white 
marble  for  reading  the  Gospell  on,  in  time  of  high  mass,  of 
excellent  basso-relievo.  In  the  library  (so  famous  for  the 
painting  ^)  they  have  church  books  done  by  the  antient  monks, 
admirable  for  the  miniatures  in  them. — -James,  Earl  of  Perth. 

The  Festa  of  the  Palio- 

The  Piazza  has  assumed  the  appearance  of  a  Roman 
circus,  and  is  lined  with  raised  benches  up  to  the  first  floors 
of  the  palaces,  save  on  one  side  where  the  ground  descends 
and  mattresses  cover  the  walls.  It  is  the  race  of  the  Palio — 
games  held  annually,  and  identified  from  the  earliest  times 
with  Siena.  During  the  Spanish  rule  they  saw  fit  to  alter  the 
old  fashion  of  the  chariot-race,  and  inaugurated  bull-fights  ; 
then    the   bull-fights   lapsed   into   bufl"alo-fights,   and    finally 

^  We  are  not  in  accord  with  the  modern  opinion  which  sets  down 
Pinturriccio  as  a  mere  journeyman.  Considering  the  large  scale  of  the 
decorations  of  the  library — hostile  to  extreme  delicacy  of  treatment  like 
that  of  the  Cambio  at  Perugia — we  doubt  if  there  is  any  handsomer  room 
in  Italy  except  those  in  the  Vatican.  Raphael,  who  worked  with  Pintur- 
riccio at  Sienna,  must  have  been  considerably  aided  by  his  example.  In 
the  library  is  the  antique  statue,  it  may  be  remarked,  of  the  Three 
Graces  of  which  his  pen-drawing  is  extant,  and  which  influenced  his  sense 
of  form  considerably.  There  is  a  cast  of  the  Pisano  pulpit  in  South  Ken- 
sington Museum.  We  have  not  given  a  lengthy  account  of  the  cathedral 
itself,  because,  compared  with  Pisa  or  Florence,  it  has  always  left  us  some- 
what cold.  The  Italian-Gothic  decoration  of  the  cathedral  and  the  piazza 
all  seem  to  us  mannered,  and  lacking  in  the  native  Italian  sense  of  pro- 
portion. The  town  itself,  with  its  windows  with  Spanish  gratings,  and 
its  character  as  the  largest  hill-town  in  Italy,  is  of  great  interest. 

^  We  prefer  to  give  this  admirable  account  of  the  unique  survival  of  an 
old  festival,  to  giving  anything  about  Sienese  art.  The  art  of  the  town  has 
its  own  interest  for  the  specialist,  but  its  particular  characteristics  are  not 
easily  described,  are  not  noted  by  our  travellers,  and  Sodoma  is  hardly 
mentioned  by  them.  The  best  account  of  Sienese  art  is  to  be  found  in 
Lord  Lindsay. 


326  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

settled  down  to  what  we  are  now  about  to  see — horse-races. 
The  city,  from  the  earUest  days,  has  been  divided  into 
contrade,  or  parishes.  Each  contrada  has  its  special  church, 
generally  of  great  antiquity,  and  each  contrada  is  named  after 
some  animal  or  natural  object,  these  names  being  symbolical 
of  certain  trades  or  customs.  There  is  the  wolf,  giraffe,  owl, 
snail,  tower,  goose,  tortoise — in  all  seventeen.  Each  has  its 
colours,  heralds,  pages,  music,  flags,  all  the  mediaeval  para- 
phernalia of  republican  subdivision.  .  .  . 

Each  contrada  runs  a  horse  at  the  Falio,  ridden  by  a 
fantino  wearing  the  colours  of  the  parish  ;  and  this  horse  and 
this  fantino  are  the  incarnation  of  the  honour  and  glory,  evil 
and  good  passions,  of  its  contrada.  The  enthusiasm  is  frantic, 
and  the  betting  desperate. 

This  is  Wednesday,  the  i6th  August,  and  we  are  glad  it  is 
come,  for  there  have  been  rehearsals  for  four  days,  twice  every 
day,  and  the  din  has  been  deafening.  According  to  custom, 
flags  have  been  tossed  each  day  as  high  as  the  upper  windows, 
in  a  kind  of  quaint  dance  or  triumph,  very  gracefully  executed 
by  the  pages  of  the  contrade.  Then,  too,  are  drums  beaten 
and  trumpets  sounded  within  each  palace  cortile,  to  remind  the 
noble  marquis  or  my  lord  count — each  of  whom  is  "protector" 
of  some  contrade — that  the  Falio  is  at  hand,  and  to  intimate 
that  a  little  ready  cash  will  be  joyfully  received  for  the  purchase 
of  a  swift  and  likely  horse  (an  intimation  the  noble  in  question 
is  very  careful  to  comply  with,  if  he  desires  to  live  peaceably 
at  Siena). 

We  are  awakened  to-day  by  the  great  bell  of  the  Mangia 
tower  and  a  complication  of  military  music,  approaching  as 
nearly  as  possible  to  the  confusion  of  Babel.  Later  come 
huge  bouquets,  borne  by  four  pages  in  full  mediaeval  costume 
of  rich  satin,  wearing  plumed  hats,  and  accompanied  by 
drums.  These  bouquets  are  sent  as  acknowledgments  to 
those  nobles  who  have  contributed  to  the  Falio.  The  more 
popular  the  man,  the  larger  and  choicer  the  bouquet,  which  is 
always  accepted  with  much  ceremony. 

At  six  o'clock,  when  the  broiling  August  sun  had  some- 
what worn  itself  out,  a  large  company  assembled  on  the 
great  stone  balcony  of  the  Chigi  Palace,  every  window 
on  the  immense  facade  being  decorated  with  magnificent 
red  and  yellow  damask.  All  round  the  Piazza  these  gay 
trappings  marked  the  lines  of  the  windows,  where  in  each  feudal 
palace  stood  the  living  representatives  of  many  historic  names. 


i 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO  32^ 

An  enormous  crowd,  some  thirty  thousand  in  number, 
gradually  fills  the  Piazza,  chattering,  quarrelling,  laughing, 
screaming.  Every  seat  in  the  raised  amphitheatre  is  soon 
taken  ;  and  the  palace  walls  are  lined  as  it  were  with  humanity 
half-way  up.  .  .  .  Bells  ring  incessantly — the  great  Mangia 
bell,  the  audibly  beating  heart  of  the  city,  in  long  single 
strokes.  The  thirty  thousand  people  become  impatient ;  and 
the  hoary  palace  and  the  big  clock,  its  nether  eye  well  turned 
on,  keep  ward  over  all.  A  cannon  sounds,  and  from  the  Via 
Casato  slowly  emerges  the  procession — the  first  act  in  this 
new-old  racing-card.  The  "Wave"  contrada  comes  first — 
four  flag-bearers  and  four  pages  in  middle-age  costume,  red 
and  white,  the  flag-bearers  performing  as  they  advance  the 
gioco  (game)  of  the  flags  ;  quaint  and  graceful  movements, 
such  as  you  may  see  figured  in  Monstrelet ;  the  fantino,  or 
jockey,  on  an  unsaddled  horse ;  the  racer,  on  which  he  is  to 
ride  by-and-by  following,  led  by  a  page ;  in  all  ten  different 
attendants  for  each  contrada.  The  fantino  always  wears  a 
striped  surcoat,  of  the  two  colours  of  his  contrada,  with  its 
symbolic  image  embroidered  on  his  back  in  gold.  Last  of  all 
comes  the  carrocciolo,  embodying  the  visible  republic,  that 
formerly  accompanied  the  troops  to  battle,  and  which,  if  taken 
or  damaged,  caused  a  terrible  reproach  and  shame,  such  as 
the  death  of  a  great  sovereign  would  now  occasion.  It  is  to 
our  cynical  eyes  but  a  lumbering  old  cart,  square  and  awkward, 
on  which  are  grouped  the  flags  of  all  the  contrade  in  a  fraternal 
union  that  never  exists  elsewhere. 

Military  bands  and  soldiers  follow,  exciting  the  populace 
to  madness,  who  frantically  clap  their  hands.  All  these 
dramatis  personcB,  including  the  carrocciolo,  group  themselves 
on  an  estrade  in  front  of  the  public  palace,  and  dispose  them- 
selves leisurely  for  enjoyment. 

If  darkness  can  be  felt,  surely  silence  may,  and  we  all  felt 
the  pause  when  every  man  and  every  woman  drew  their 
breath.  Again  the  cannon  thunders,  and  gaily  trotting  out 
from  under  the  dark  palace  gateway,  fifteen  little  horses  with 
fifteen  party-coloured  riders  appear,  and  place  themselves 
before  a  rope  stretched  across  the  course— a  very  necessary 
precaution,  I  assure  you,  for  last  year  the  horses  pressed 
against  and  broke  the  cord  with  their  chests  (and  a  strong 
cord  too),  and  floored  five  men  and  three  horses  dead  in  a 
heap  on  the  stones. 

Now  they  are  marshalled  at  the  rope  by  a  middle-aged 


328  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

gentleman  in  full  evening  dress — a  queer  contrast  to  the 
mediaeval  jockeys.  He  shows  extraordinary  courage  in 
placing  the  horses  and  dragooning  the  riders.  He  gives  the 
signal  like  children — uno,  due,  tr},  e  via  ! — drops  his  official 
staff,  and  jumps  aside  with  what  speed  he  can  for  the  dear 
life.  They  are  off  like  the  wind,  round  the  first  corner,  on  to 
the  murderous  lamp-post,  down  the  descent — whish  !  See, 
that  horse  has  hugged  the  corner,  rushed  down  the  hill,  and 
is  safe.  But  here,  look  !  this  second  rider  is  hurled  off  against 
the  mattresses  lining  the  house-walls  at  the  fatal  corner,  or  his 
brains  would  have  been  infallibly  dashed  out  on  the  pave- 
ment. He  falls,  but  thanks  to  this  protection,  is  up  again, 
bewildered,  but  still  holding  the  reins,  and  so  jumps  into  the 
saddle,  and  rides  away.  Two  others  just  escape  ;  and  two 
provoking  horses  won't  run.  Many  are  thrown  ;  one  horse 
bolts  up  a  street.  Three  times  they  rush  round  the  Piazza,  at 
a  risk  and  with  a  speed  horrible  to  behold ;  and  each  time  the 
ranks  are  thinner.  They  ride  well,  but  against  all  rule,  for 
they  belabour  each  other's  heads  as  much  as  their  horses' 
sides — very  uneducated  and  mediseval  jockeys  !  Down  hill — 
up  again — helter-skelter — horses  without  riders  racing  also  for 
the  fun  !  The  drum  sounds,  and  it  is  all  over,  and  the  Oca 
(the  goose)  has  won  ;  and  every  one  knew  the  Oca  would  win, 
because  it  was  the  best  horse  ;  and  a  howl,  a  shriek  of  exulta- 
tion, comes  up  from  the  crowd,  which  separates  and  opens 
like  the  bursting  of  a  dammed-up  river. 

Then  the  Oca  horse  is  seized  by,  at  the  very  least,  thirty 
men  and  boys,  and  \hefantino  by  as  many  more,  who  lift  him 
from  his  unsaddled  horse ;  and  he  and  the  horse  are  kissed, 
and  hugged,  and  patted,  and  rejoiced  over,  and  led,  then  and 
there,  to  the  chapel  at  the  bottom  of  the  Mangia  tower,  where 
the  Madonna  stands  on  the  altar,  in  a  forest  of  flowers,  un- 
covered in  honour  of  the  day.  And  so,  surging  up  and  down 
among  the  crowd,  man  and  horse  disappear  down  an  alley,  to 
reappear  at  the  church  of  their  own  cotiirada,  where  the  priest 
receives  and  blesses  them  both,  man  and  beast,  and  will  hang 
up  the  palio  (or  banner)  in  the  sacristy,  with  the  date  in  gold 
letters,  as  a  cosa  di  devozione. — Mrs.  Elliot. 


FLORENCE,  PERUGIA,  TOWNS  TO  ORVIETO     329 

ORVIETO 

The  Facade  of  the  Cathedral 

Modern  sculpture  can  show  nothing  which,  in  variety  of 
imagination  and  Hvehness  of  rendering,  excels  these  works 
executed  five  centuries  and  a  half  ago.  On  the  four  piers, 
each  of  which  is  about  twenty-five  feet  high  by  sixteen  feet  in 
width,  the  spiritual  history  of  the  human  race,  according  to 
the  scriptural  view,  is  sculptured  in  direct  or  typical  repre- 
sentations. The  first  is  occupied  with  bas-reliefs  which  set 
forth  the  Creation  and  the  Fall  of  Man,  and  the  two  greac 
consequences  of  the  Fall,  Sin  and  Labour.  On  the  next  pier 
are  sculptured  with  great  fullness  and  variety,  and  not  always 
with  plain  meaning,  some  of  the  prophetic  visions  and  historic 
events  in  which  the  Future  Redemption  of  the  world  was  seen 
or  prefigured  by  the  eye  of  faith,  or  which  awakened  longings 
for  the  coming  of  the  Messiah.  On  the  third  is  represented 
the  Advent,  the  Life  and  Death  of  the  Saviour,  at  once  the 
reconciling  of  God  and  man  and  the  fulfilment  of  prophecy. 
And  on  the  fourth  is  the  completion  of  the  things  of  the  spirit, 
in  the  Resurrection,  the  Last  Judgment,  Heaven  and  Hell. 
Thus  were  the  great  facts  of  his  religious  creed  set  before  the 
eyes  of  him  who  approached  the  church,  about  to  pass  over 
its  threshold  from  the  outer  world.  Every  eye  could  read  the 
story  on  the  wall ;  and  though  few  might  comprehend  the  full 
extent  of  its  meaning,  and  few  enter  into  sympathy  with  the 
imagination  of  the  artist,  yet  the  inspiration  of  faith  had  given 
such  power  to  the  work,  that  none  could  behold  it  without 
receiving  some  measure  of  its  spirit. — C.  E.  Norton. 

LucA  Signorelli  1 

While  the  priest  sings,  and  the  people  pray  to  the  dance- 
music  of  the  organ,  let  us  take  a  quiet  seat  unseen,  and  picture 
to  our  minds  how  the  chapel  looked  when  Angelico  and 
Signorelli  stood  before  its  plastered  walls,  and  thought  the 
thoughts  with  which  they  covered  them.  Four  centuries  have 
gone  by  since  those  walls  were  white  and  even  to  their 
brushes ;  and  now  you  scarce  can  see  the  golden  aureoles  of 

^  Vasari  tells  us  that  he  is  not  surprised  that  "  the  works  of  Luca  were 
ever  highly  extolled  by  Michelagnolo,"  who  has  imitated  some  of  these 
conceptions  in  the  Sistine  Chapel. 


330  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

saints,  the  vast  wings  of  the  angels,  and  the  flowing  robes  of 
prophets  through  the  gloom.  Angelico  came  first,  in  monk's 
dress,  kneeling  before  he  climbed  the  scaffold  to  paint  the 
angry  judge,  the  Virgin  crowned,  the  white-robed  army  of  the 
Martyrs,  and  the  glorious  company  of  the  Apostles.  These 
he  placed  upon  the  roof,  expectant  of  the  Judgment.  Then 
he  passed  away,  and  Luca  Signorelli,  the  rich  man  who  "lived 
splendidly  and  loved  to  dress  himself  in  noble  clothes,"  the 
liberal  and  courteous  gentleman,  took  his  place  upon  the 
scaffold.  For  all  the  worldliness  of  his  attire  and  the 
worldliness  of  his  living,  his  brain  teemed  with  stern  and 
terrible  thoughts.  He  searched  the  secrets  of  sin  and  of  the 
grave,  of  destruction  and  of  resurrection,  of  heaven  an,d  hell. 
All  these  he  has  painted  on  the  walls  beneath  the  saints  of 
Fra  Angelico.  First  come  the  troubles  of  the  last  days,  the 
preaching  of  Antichrist  and  the  confusion  of  the  wicked.  In 
the  next  compartment  we  see  the  Resurrection  from  the  tomb, 
and  side  by  side  with  that  is  painted  Hell.  Paradise  occupies 
another  portion  of  the  chapel.  On  each  side  of  the  window, 
beneath  the  Christ  of  Fra  Angelico,  are  delineated  scenes 
from  the  Judgment.  A  wilderness  of  arabesques,  enclosing 
medallion  portraits  of  poets  and  chiaroscuro  episodes  selected 
from  Dante  and  Ovid,  occupies  the  lower  portions  of  the 
chapel  walls  beneath  the  great  subjects  enumerated  above  ; 
and  here  Signorelli  has  given  free  rein  to  his  fancy  and  his 
mastery  over  anatomical  design,  accumulating  naked  human 
figures  in  the  most  fantastic  and  audacious  variety  of  pose.^ — 
J.  A.  Symonds. 

^  Forsyth  epitomises  the  towns  near  Orvieto  and  on  the  road  to  Rome  as 
follows  :  "  Acquapendente  broke  fresh  upon  us,  surrounded  with  ancient 
oaks,  and  terraces  clad  in  the  greens  of  a  second  spring,  and  hanging 
vineyards,  and  cascades  and  cliffs,  and  grottoes,  screened  with  pensile 
foliage.  Then  the  Lake  of  Bolsena  expanding  at  San  Lorenzo  displayed 
its  islands  and  castellated  cliffs,  and  banks  crowned  with  inviolate  woods, 
and  ruins  built  upon  ruins,  Bolsena  mouldering  on  Volsinii."  To  continue 
with  Evelyn,  next  is  Montefiascone,  "heretofore  Falernum  "  .  .  .  with 
its  Horatian  memories,  its  view  of  Soracte,  and  the  story  of  the 
Dutch  bishop  who  drank  its  wine.  "  From  hence,"  continues  Evelyn, 
"  we  travel  a  plain  and  pleasant  champain  to  Viterbo,  which  presents  itself 
with  much  state  afar  off,  in  regard  of  her  many  lofty  pinnacles  and  towers." 
Here  is  the  famous  Piela  of  Sebastiano  del  Piombo,  designed  by  Michael 
Angelo. 


ROME 


THE  APPROACH  TO  ROME 

We  set  out  in  the  dark.  Morning  dawned  over  the  Lago 
di  Vico ;  its  waters  of  a  deep  ultramarine  blue,  and  its  sur- 
rounding forests  catching  the  rays  of  the  rising  sun.  It  was 
in  vain  I  looked  for  the  cupola  of  St.  Peter's  upon  descending 
the  mountains  beyond  Viterbo.  Nothing  but  a  sea  of  vapours 
was  visible. 

At  length  they  rolled  away,  and  the  spacious  plains  began 
to  show  themselves,  in  which  the  most  warlike  of  nations 
reared  their  seat  of  empire.  On  the  left,  afar  off,  rises  the 
rugged  chain  of  Apennines,  and  on  the  other  side,  a  shining 
expanse  of  ocean  terminates  the  view.  It  was  upon  this  vast 
surface  so  many  illustrious  actions  were  performed,  and  I 
know  not  where  a  mighty  people  could  have  chosen  a  grander 
theatre.  Here  was  space  for  the  march  of  armies,  and  verge 
enough  for  encampments.  Levels  for  martial  games,  and 
room  for  that  variety  of  roads  and  causeways  that  led  from 
the  capital  to  Ostia.  How  many  triumphant  legions  have 
trodden  these  pavements  !  how  many  captive  kings !  What 
throngs  of  cars  and  chariots  once  glittered  on  their  surface  ! 
savage  animals  dragged  from  the  interior  of  Africa ;  and  the 
ambassadors  of  Indian  princes,  followed  by  their  exotic  train, 
hastening  to  implore  the  favour  of  the  senate  ! 

During  many  ages,  this  eminence  commanded  almost 
every  day  such  illustrious  scenes ;  but  all  are  vanished  :  the 
splendid  tumult  is  passed  away;  silence  and  desolation  re- 
main. Dreary  flats  thinly  scattered  over  with  ilex,  and  barren 
hillocks  crowned  by  solitary  towers,  were  the  only  objects  we 
perceived  for  several  miles.  Now  and  then  we  passed  a  few 
black  ill-favoured  sheep  feeding  by  the  wayside,  near  a 
ruined  sepulchre,  just  such  animals  as  an  ancient  would 
have  sacrificed  to  the  Manes.  Sometimes  we  crossed  a 
brook,  whose  ripplings  were   the  only  sounds  which  broke 


332  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  general  stillness,  and  observed  the  shepherds'  huts  on 
its  banks,  propped  up  with  broken  pedestals  and  marble 
friezes.  .  .  .  Heath  and  furze  were  the  sole  vegetation  which 
covers  this  endless  wilderness.  Every  slope  is  strewed  with 
the  relics  of  a  happier  period ;  trunks  of  trees,  shattered 
columns,  cedar  beams,  helmets  of  bronze,  skulls  and  coins, 
are  frequently  dug  up  together. 

Shall  I  ever  forget  the  sensations  I  experienced  upon 
slowly  descending  the  hills,  and  crossing  the  bridge  over 
the  Tiber ;  when  I  entered  an  avenue  between  terraces  and 
ornamented  gates  of  villas,  which  leads  to  the  Porto  del 
Popolo,  and  beheld  the  square,  the  domes,  the  obelisk,  the 
long  perspective  of  streets  and  palaces  opening  beyond,  all 
glowing  with  the  vivid  red  of  sunset  ? — Beckford. 

We  entered  on  the  Campagna  Romana  ;  an  undulating  flat 
(as  you  know),  where  few  people  can  live ;  and  where,  for 
miles  and  miles,  there  is  nothing  to  relieve  the  terrible 
monotony  and  gloom.  Of  all  kinds  of  country  that  could,  by 
possibility,  lie  outside  the  gates  of  Rome,  this  is  the  aptest 
and  fittest  burial-ground  for  the  Dead  City.  So  sad,  so  quiet, 
so  sullen ;  so  secret  in  its  covering  up  of  great  masses  of  ruin, 
and  hiding  them  ;  so  like  the  waste  places  into  which  the 
men  possessed  with  devils  used  to  go  and  howl,  and  rend 
themselves,  in  the  old  days  of  Jerusalem.  We  had  to  traverse 
thirty  miles  of  this  Campagna  j  and  for  two-and-twenty  we 
went  on  and  on,  seeing  nothing  but  now  and  then  a  lonely 
house,  or  a  villainous-looking  shepherd :  with  matted  hair  all 
over  his  face,  and  himself  wrapped  to  the  chin  in  a  frowsy- 
brown  mantle,  tending  his  sheep.  At  the  end  of  that  distance, 
we  stopped  to  refresh  the  horses,  and  to  get  some  lunch,  in  a 
common  malaria-shaken,  despondent  little  public-house,  whose 
every  inch  of  wall  and  beam,  inside,  was  (according  to  custom) 
painted  and  decorated  in  a  way  so  miserable  that  every  room 
looked  like  the  wrong  side  of  another  room,  and,  with  its 
wretched  imitation  of  drapery,  and  lop-sided  little  daubs  of 
lyres,  seemed  to  have  been  plundered  from  behind  the  scenes 
of  some  travelling  circus. 

When  we  were  fairly  going  off  again,  we  began,  in  a  perfect 
fever,  to  strain  our  eyes  for  Rome ;  and  when,  after  another 
mile  or  two,  the  Eternal  city  appeared,  at  length,  in  the 
distance ;  it  looked  like — I  am  half  afraid  to  write  the  word — 
like  LONDON  ! ! !  There  it  lay,  under  a  thick  cloud,  with 
innumerable  towers,  and  steeples,  and  roofs  of  houses,  rising 


ROME  333 

up  into  the  sky,  and  high  above  them  all,  one  Dome.  I 
swear,  that  keenly  as  I  felt  the  seeming  absurdity  of  the 
comparison,  it  was  so  like  London,  at  that  distance,  that  if 
you  could  have  shown  it  me,  in  a  glass,  I  should  have  taken 
it  for  nothing  else. — Dickens. 

THE    ANTIQUITIES 
A  General  Impression  ^ 

The  Coliseum  is  unlike  any  work  of  human  hands  I  ever 
saw  before.  It  is  of  enormous  height  and  circuit,  and  the 
arches  built  of  massy  stones  are  piled  on  one  another,  and 
jut  into  the  blue  air,  shattered  into  the  forms  of  overhanging 
rocks.  It  has  been  changed  by  time  into  the  image  of  an 
amphitheatre  of  rocky  hills  overgrown  by  the  wild  olive,  the 
myrtle,  and  the  fig-tree,  and  threaded  by  Htde  paths,  which 
wind  among  its  ruined  stairs  and  immeasurable  galleries  :  the 
copsewood  overshadows  you  as  you  wander  through  its 
labyrinths,  and  the  wild  weeds  of  this  climate  of  flowers 
bloom  under  your  feet.  The  arena  is  covered  with  grass,  and 
pierces,  like  the  skirts  of  a  natural  plain,  the  chasms  of  the 
broken  arches  around.  But  a  small  part  of  the  exterior 
circumference  remains — it  is  exquisitely  light  and  beautiful; 
and  the  effect  of  the  perfection  of  its  architecture,  adorned 
with  ranges  of  Corinthian  pilasters,  supporting  a  bold  cornice, 
is  such  as  to  diminish  the  effect  of  its  greatness.  The  interior 
is  all  ruin.  I  can  scarcely  believe  that  when  encrusted  with 
Dorian  marble  and  ornamented  by  columns  of  Egyptian  granite, 
its  effect  could  have  been  so  sublime  and  so  impressive  as  in 
its  present  state.  It  is  open  to  the  sky,  and  it  was  the  clear 
and  sunny  weather  of  the  end  of  November  in  this  climate 
when  we  visited  it,  day  after  day.  .  .   . 

The  Forum  is  a  plain  in  the  midst  of  Rome,  a  kind  of 
desert  full  of  heaps  of  stones  and  pits ;  and  though  so  near 
the  habitations  of  men,  is  the  most  desolate  place  you  can 
conceive.  The  ruins  of  temples  stand  in  and  around  it, 
shattered  columns  and  ranges  of  others  complete,  supporting 
cornices  of  exquisite  workmanship,  and  vast  vaults  of  shattered 
domes  distinct  with  regular  compartments,  once  filled   with 

^  Shelley's  account,  it  need  hardly  be  said,  was  written  when  very 
little  had  been  done  in  the  way  of  excavation  ;  but  he  saw  Rome  as  the 
travellers  had  seen  it  for  three  hundred  years. 


334  THE  BOOK   OF   ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

sculptures  of  ivory  or  brass.  The  temples  of  Jupiter,  and 
Concord,  and  Peace,  and  the  Sun,  and  the  Moon,  and  Vesta, 
are  all  within  a  short  distance  of  this  spot.  Behold  the  wrecks 
of  what  a  great  nation  once  dedicated  to  the  abstractions  of 
the  mind  !  Rome  is  a  city,  as  it  were,  of  the  dead,  or  rather 
of  those  who  cannot  die,  and  who  survive  the  puny  generations 
which  inhabit  and  pass  over  the  spot  which  they  have  made 
sacred  to  eternity.  In  Rome,  at  least  in  the  first  enthusiasm 
of  your  recognition  of  ancient  time,  you  see  nothing  of  the 
Italians.  The  nature  of  the  city  assists  the  delusion,  for  its 
vast  and  antique  walls  describe  a  circumference  of  sixteen 
miles,  and  thus  the  population  is  thinly  scattered  over  this 
space,  nearly  as  great  as  London.  Wide  wild  fields  are 
enclosed  within  it,  and  there  are  grassy  lanes  and  copses 
winding  among  the  ruins,  and  a  great  green  hill,  lonely  and 
bare,  which  overhangs  the  Tiber.  The  gardens  of  the  modern 
palaces  are  like  wild  woods  of  cedar,  and  cypress,  and  pine, 
and  the  neglected  walks  are  overgrown  with  weeds.  .  .  . 


The  next  most  considerable  relic  of  antiquity,  considered 
as  a  ruin,  is  the  Thermae  of  Caracalla.  These  consist  of  six 
enormous  chambers,  above  200  feet  in  height,  and  each 
enclosing  a  vast  space  like  that  of  a  field.  There  are,  in 
addition,  a  number  of  towers  and  labyrinthine  recesses, 
hidden  and  woven  over  by  the  wild  growth  of  weeds  and 
ivy.  Never  was  any  desolation  more  sublime  and  lovely. 
The  perpendicular  wall  of  ruin  is  cloven  into  steep  ravines 
filled  up  with  flowering  shrubs,  whose  thick  twisted  roots  are 
knotted  in  the  rifts  of  the  stones.  At  every  stop  the  aerial 
pinnacles  of  shattered  stone  group  into  new  combinations  of 
effect,  and  tower  above  the  lofty  yet  level  walls,  as  the  distant 
mountains  change  their  aspect  to  one  travelling  rapidly  along 
the  plain.  The  perpendicular  walls  resemble  nothing  more 
than  that  cliff  of  Bisham  wood,  that  is  overgrown  with  wood, 
and  yet  is  stony  and  precipitous — you  know  the  one  I  mean ; 
not  the  chalk-pit,  but  the  spot  that  has  the  pretty  copse  of 

fir-trees  and  privet-bushes  at  its  base,  and  where  H and  I 

scrambled  up,  and  you,  to  my  infinite  discontent,  would  go 
home.  These  walls  surround  green  and  level  spaces  of  lawn, 
on  which  some  elms  have  grown,  and  which  are  interspersed 
towards  their  skirts  by  masses  of  the  fallen  ruin,  overtwined 


ROME  335 

with  the  broad  leaves  of  the  creeping  weeds.  The  blue  sky 
canopies  it,  and  is  as  the  everlasting  roof  of  these  enormous 
halls. 

But  the  most  interesting  effect  remains.  In  one  of  the 
buttresses,  that  supports  an  immense  and  lofty  arch,  "  which 
bridges  the  very  winds  of  heaven,"  are  the  crumbling  remains 
of  an  antique  winding  staircase,  whose  sides  are  open  in  many 
places  to  the  precipice.  This  you  ascend,  and  arrive  on  the 
summit  of  these  piles.  There  grow  on  every  side  thick 
entangled  wildernesses  of  myrtle,  and  the  myrletus,  and  bay, 
and  the  flowering  laurestinus,  whose  white  blossoms  are  just 
developed,  the  white  fig,  and  a  thousand  nameless  plants  sown 
by  the  wandering  winds.  These  woods  are  intersected  on 
every  side  by  paths,  Hke  sheep-tracks  through  the  copse-wood 
of  steep  mountains,  which  wind  to  every  part  of  the  immense 
labyrinth.  From  the  midst  rise  those  pinnacles  and  masses, 
themselves  like  mountains,  which  have  been  seen  from  below. 
In  one  place  you  wind  along  a  narrow  strip  of  weed-grown 
ruin ;  on  one  side  is  the  immensity  of  earth  and  sky,  on  the 
other  a  narrow  chasm,  which  is  bounded  by  an  arch  of 
enormous  size,  fringed  by  the  many-coloured  foliage  and 
blossoms,  and  supporting  a  lofty  and  irregular  pyramid,  over- 
grown like  itself  with  the  all-prevailing  vegetation.  Around 
rise  other  crags  and  other  peaks,  all  arrayed,  and  the  deformity 
of  their  vast  desolation  softened  down,  by  the  undecaying 
investiture  of  nature.  Come  to  Rome.  It  is  a  scene  by 
which  expression  is  overpowered  ;  which  words  cannot  convey. 
Still  further,  winding  up  one  half  of  the  shattered  pyramids,  by 
the  path  through  the  blooming  copse-wood,  you  come  to  a 
httle  mossy  lawn,  surrounded  by  the  wild  shrubs ;  it  is  over- 
grown with  anemonies,  wall-flowers,  and  violets,  whose  stalks 
pierce  the  starry  moss,  and  with  radiant  blue  flowers,  whose 
names  I  know  not,  and  which  scatter  through  the  air  the 
divinest  odour,  which,  as  you  recline  under  the  shade  of  the 
ruin,  produces  sensations  of  voluptuous  faintness,  like  the 
combinations  of  sweet  music.  The  paths  still  wind  on, 
threading  the  perplexed  windings,  other  labyrinths,  other 
lawns,  and  deep  dells  of  wood,  and  lofty  rocks,  and  terrific 
chasms.  When  I  tell  you  that  these  ruins  cover  several  acres, 
and  that  the  paths  above  penetrate  at  least  half  their  extent, 
your  imagination  will  fill  up  all  that  I  am  unable  to  express  of 
this  astonishing  scene. 


336  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


II 

I  speak  of  these  things  not  in  the  order  in  which  I  visited 
them,  but  in  that  of  the  impression  which  they  made  on  me,  or 
perhaps  chance  directs.  The  ruins  of  the  ancient  Forum  are 
so  far  fortunate  that  they  have  not  been  walled  up  in  the 
modern  city.  They  stand  in  an  open,  lonesome  place, 
bounded  on  one  side  by  the  modern  city,  and  the  other  by 
the  Palatine  Mount,  covered  with  shapeless  masses  of  ruin. 
The  tourists  tell  you  all  about  these  things,  and  I  am  afraid  of 
stumbling  on  their  language  when  I  enumerate  what  is  so  well 
known.  There  remain  eight  granite  columns  of  the  Ionic 
order,  with  their  entablature,  of  the  temple  of  Concord, 
founded  by  Camillus.  I  fear  that  the  immense  expanse 
demanded  by  these  columns  forbids  us  to  hope  that  they  are 
the  remains  of  any  edifice  dedicated  by  that  most  perfect  and 
virtuous  of  men.  It  is  supposed  to  have  been  repaired  under 
the  Eastern  Emperors  ;  alas,  what  a  contrast  of  recollections  ! 
Near  them  stand  those  Corinthian  fiuted  columns,  which 
supported  the  angle  of  a  temple ;  the  architrave  and  entabla- 
ture are  worked  with  delicate  sculpture.  Beyond,  to  the 
south,  is  another  solitary  column ;  and  still  more  distant, 
three  more,  supporting  the  wreck  of  an  entablature.  De- 
scending from  the  Capitol  to  the  Forum,  is  the  triumphal 
arch  of  Septimius  Severus,  less  perfect  than  that  of  Con- 
stantine,  though  from  its  proportions  and  magnitude  a  most 
impressive  monument.  That  of  Constantine,  or  rather  of 
Titus  (for  the  relief  and  sculpture,  and  even  the  colossal 
images  of  Dacian  captives,  were  torn  by  a  decree  of  the  senate 
from  an  arch  dedicated  to  the  latter,  to  adorn  that  of  this 
stupid  and  wicked  monster,  Constantine,  one  of  whose  chief 
merits  consists  in  establishing  a  religion,  the  destroyer  of 
those  arts  which  would  have  rendered  so  base  a  spoliation 
unnecessary),  is  the  most  perfect.  It  is  an  admirable  work  of 
art.  It  is  built  of  the  finest  marble,  and  the  outline  of  the 
reliefs  is  in  many  parts  as  perfect  as  if  just  finished.  Four 
Corinthian  fluted  columns  support,  on  each  side,  a  bold  entabla- 
ture, whose  bases  are  loaded  with  reliefs  of  captives  in  every 
attitude  of  humiliation  and  slavery.  The  compartments  above 
express,  in  bolder  relief,  the  enjoyment  of  success ;  the 
conqueror  on  his  throne,  or  in  his  chariot,  or  nodding  over 
the  crushed  multitudes,  who  writhe  under  his  horses'  hoofs, 


ROME  337 

as  those  below  express  the  torture  and  abjectness  of  defeat. 
There  are  three  arches,  whose  roofs  are  panneled  with  fret- 
work, and  their  sides  adorned  with  similar  reliefs.  The 
keystone  of  these  arches  is  supported  each  by  two  winged 
figures  of  Victory,  whose  hair  floats  on  the  wind  of  their  own 
speed,  and  whose  arms  are  outstretched,  bearing  trophies,  as 
if  impatient  to  meet.  They  look,  as  it  were,  borne  from  the 
subject  extremities  of  the  earth,  on  the  breath  which  is  the 
exhalation  of  that  battle  and  desolation,  which  it  is  their 
mission  to  commemorate.  Never  were  monuments  so  com- 
pletely fitted  to  the  purpose  for  which  they  were  designed,  of 
expressing  that  mixture  of  energy  and  error  which  is  called  a 
triumph. 

Ill 

I  walk  forth  in  the  purple  and  golden  light  of  an  Italian 
evening,  and  return  by  star  or  moonlight,  through  this  scene. 
The  elms  are  just  budding,  and  the  warm  spring  winds  bring 
unknown  odours,  all  sweet  from  the  country.  I  see  the  radian 
Orion  through  the  mighty  columns  of  the  temple  of  Concord, 
and  the  mellow  fading  light  softens  down  the  modern  buildings 
of  the  capitol,  the  only  ones  that  interfere  wiih  the  sublime 
desolation  of  the  scene.  On  the  steps  of  the  capitol  itself, 
stand  two  colossal  statues  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  each  with  his 
horse,  finely  executed,  though  far  inferior  to  those  of  Monte 
Cavallo.  I  ought  to  have  observed  that  the  central  arch  of 
the  triumphal  Arch  of  Titus  yet  subsists,  more  perfect  in  its 
proportions,  they  say,  than  any  of  a  later  date.  This  I  did 
not  remark.  The  figures  of  Victory,  with  unfolded  wings,  and 
each  spurning  back  a  globe  with  outstretched  feet,  are,  perhaps, 
more  beautiful  than  those  on  either  of  the  others.  Their  lips 
are  parted  :  a  delicate  mode  of  indicating  the  fervour  of  their 
desire  to  arrive  at  the  destined  resting-place,  and  to  express 
the  eager  respiration  of  their  speed.  Indeed,  so  essential  to 
beauty  were  the  forms  expressive  of  the  exercise  of  the  im- 
agination and  the  affections  considered  by  Greek  artists,  that 
no  ideal  fiirure  of  antiquity,  not  destined  to  some  representation 
directly  exclusive  of  such  a  character,  is  to  be  found  with 
closed  lips.  Within  this  arch  are  two  panneled  alto-relievos, 
one  representing  a  train  of  people  bearing  in  procession  the 
instruments  of  Jewish  worship,  among  which  is  the  holy 
candlestick  with  seven  branches ;  on  the  other,  Titus  stand- 
ing on   a   quadriga,  with  a  winged   Victory.     The   grouping 

y 


33S  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

of  the  horses,  and  the  beauty,  correctness,  and  energy  of 
their  delineation,  is  remarkable,  though  they  are  much  de- 
stroyed. — Shelley. 

The  Ancient  Capitol 

The  Capitol  was  anciently  both  a  fortress  and  a  sanctuary 
— a  fortress  surrounded  with  precipices,  bidding  defiance  to 
all  the  means  of  attack  employed  in  ancient  times  ;  a  sanctu- 
ary, crowded  with  altars  and  temples,  the  repository  of  the 
fatal  oracles,  the  seat  of  the  tutelar  deities  of  the  empire. 
Romulus  began  the  grand  work,  by  erecting  the  temple  of 
Jupiter  ]-eretrius  ;  Tarquinius  Priscus,  Servius  TuUius,  and 
Tarquinius  Superbus  continued,  and  the  consul  Horatius 
Pulvillus,  a  few  years  after  the  expulsion  of  the  kings,  com- 
pleted it,  with  a  solidity  and  magnificence,  says  Tacitus, 
which  the  riches  of  succeeding  ages  might  adorn,  but  could 
not  increase.  It  was  burned  during  the  civil  wars  between 
IMarius  and  Sylla,  and  rebuilt  shortly  after  ;  but  again  de- 
stroyed by  fire  in  the  dreadful  contest  that  took  place  in 
the  very  Forum  itself,  and  on  the  sides  of  the  Capitoline 
Mount,  between  the  partisans  of  Vitellius  and  Vespasian. 
This  event  Tacitus  laments,  with  the  spirit  and  indignation 
of  a  Roman,  as  the  greatest  disaster  that  had  ever  befallen 
the  city.  And,  indeed,  if  we  consider  that  the  public  archives, 
and  of  course  the  most  valuable  records  of  its  history,  were 
deposited  there,  we  must  allow  that  the  catastrophe  was  pecu- 
liarly unfortunate,  not  to  Rome  only,  but  to  the  world  at 
large. 

However,  the  Capitol  rose  once  more  from  its  ashes  with 
redoubled  splendour,  and  received,  from  the  munificence  of 
Vespasian,  and  of  Domitian,  his  son,  its  last  and  most  glorious 
embellishments.  The  edifices  were  probably,  in  sight  and 
destination,  nearly  the  same  as  before  the  conflagration  ;  but 
more  attention  was  paid  to  symmetry,  to  costliness,  and,  above 
all,  to  grandeur  and  magnificence.  The  northern  entrance 
led  under  a  triumphal  arch  to  the  centre  of  the  hill,  and  to 
the  sacred  grove,  the  asylum  opened  by  Romulus,  and  almost 
the  cradle  of  Roman  power.  On  the  right,  on  the  eastern 
summit,  stood  the  temple  of  Jupiter  Feretrius.  On  the  left, 
on  the  western  summit,  was  that  of  Jupiter  Custos  (Jupiter 
the  Guardian) ;  near  each  of  these  temples  were  the  fanes  of 
inferior  Divinities,  that  of  Fortune,  and  that  of  Fides  (Fide- 


ROME  339 

lity),  alluded  to  by  Cicero.  In  the  midst,  to  crown  the 
pyramid  formed  by  such  an  assemblage  of  majestic  edifices, 
rose  the  residence  of  the  guardian  of  the  empire,  the  temple  of 
Jupiter  Capitolinus,  on  a  hundred  steps,  supported  by  a  hun- 
dred pillars,  adorned  with  all  the  refinements  of  art,  and 
blazing  with  the  plunder  of  the  world.  In  the  centre  of  the 
temple,  with  Juno  on  his  left,  and  Minerva  on  his  right 
side,  the  Thunderer  sat  on  a  throne  of  gold,  grasping  the 
lightning  in  one  hand,  and  in  the  other  wielding  the  sceptre 
of  the  universe. 

Hither  the  consuls  were  conducted  by  the  senate,  to  assume 
the  military  dress,  and  to  implore  the  favour  of  the  gods 
before  they  marched  to  battle.  Hither  the  victorious  generals 
used  to  repair  in  triumph,  in  order  to  suspend  the  spoils 
of  conquered  nations,  to  present  captive  monarchs,  and  to 
offer  up  hecatombs  to  Tarpeian  Jove.  Here,  in  cases  of 
danger  and  distress,  the  senate  was  assembled,  and  the  magis- 
trates convened  to  deliberate  in  the  presence,  and  under  the 
immediate  influence,  of  the  tutelar  gods  of  Rome.  Here  the 
laws  were  exhibited  to  public  inspection,  as  if  under  the 
sanction  of  the  divinity  ;  and  here  also  they  were  deposited,  as 
if  entrusted  to  his  guardian  care.  Hither  Cicero  turned  his 
hands  and  eyes,  when  he  closed  his  first  oration  against 
Catiline,  with  that  noble  address  to  Jupiter,  presiding  in  the 
Capitol  over  the  destinies  of  the  empire,  and  dooming  its 
enemies  to  destruction. 

In  the  midst  of  these  magnificent  structures,  of  this 
wonderful  display  of  art  and  opulence,  stood  for  ages  the 
humble  straw-roofed  palace  of  Romulus,  a  monument  of 
primitive  simplicity,  dear  and  venerable  in  the  eyes  of  the 
Romans. — Eustace. 

The  Colosseum  ^ 

It  is  no  fiction,  but  plain,  sober,  honest  truth,  to  say  :  so 
suggestive  and  distinct  is  it  at  this  hour  :  that,  for  a  moment — 

1  Nothing  delighted  the  nineteenth-century  travellers  more  than  the 
Colosseum  by  moonlight.  Byron  sang  it  in  Manfred,  and  Goethe  has 
written  :  "  Of  the  beauty  of  a  walk  through  Rome  by  moonlight  it  is 
impossible  to  form  a  conception,  without  having  witnessed  it.  All  single 
objects  are  swallowed  up  by  the  great  masses  of  light  and  shade,  and 
nothing  but  grand  and  general  outlines  present  themselves  to  the  eye. 
For  three  several  days  we  have  enjoyed  to  the  full  the  brightest  and 
most  glorious   of  nights.       Peculiarly   beautiful  at   such   a   time   is   the 


340  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

actually  in  passing  in — they  who  will,  may  have  the  whole 
great  pile  before  them,  as  it  used  to  be,  with  thousands  of 
eager  faces  staring  down  into  the  arena,  and  such  a  whirl  of 
strife,  and  blood,  and  dust  going  on  there,  as  no  language  can 
describe.  Its  solitude,  its  awful  beauty,  and  its  utter  desolation, 
strike  upon  the  stranger  the  next  moment,  like  a  softened 
sorrow  ;  and  never  in  his  life,  perhaps,  will  he  be  so  moved  and 
overcome  by  any  sight,  not  immediately  connected  with  his 
own  affections  and  afilictions. 

To  see  it  crumbling  there,  an  inch  a  year;  its  walls  and 
arches  overgrown  with  green  ;  its  corridors  open  to  the  day  ; 
the  long  grass  growing  in  its  porches ;  young  trees  of  yester- 
day, springing  up  on  its  ragged  parapets,  and  bearing  fruit : 
chance  produce  of  the  seeds  dropped  there  by  the  birds  who 
build  their  nests  within  its  chinks  and  crannies  ;  to  see  its  Pit 
of  Fight  filled  up  with  earth,  and  the  peaceful  Cross  planted  in 
tlie  centre  ;  to  climb  into  its  upper  halls,  and  look  down  on 
ruin,  ruin,  ruin,  all  about  it ;  the  triumphal  arches  of  Con- 
stantine,  Septimius  Severus,  and  Titus  ;  the  Roman  Forum ; 
the  Palace  of  the  Cresars  ;  the  temples  of  the  old  religion, 
fallen  down  and  gone  ;  is  to  see  the  ghost  of  old  Rome, 
wicked  wonderful  old  city,  haunting  the  very  ground  on  which 
its  people  trod.  It  is  the  most  impressive,  the  most  stately, 
the  most  solemn,  grand,  majestic,  mournful  sight,  conceivable. 
Never,  in  its  bloodiest  prime,  can  the  sight  of  the  gigantic 
Coliseum,  full  and  running  over  with  the  lustiest  life,  have 
moved  one  heart,  as  it  must  move  all  who  look  upon  it  now,  a 
ruin.     God  be  thanked  :  a  ruin  ! — Dickens. 

The  Forum 

It  is  an  awful  and  a  solemn  thing  to  visit  the  valley  of  the 
Forum  by  night ;  the  darkness  of  ages  and  the  dimness  of 
decay  are  imaged  by  the  heavy  gloom  that  then  hangs  around 
these  mysterious  precincts — precincts  haunted  by  the  mighty 

Coliseum.  At  night  it  is  always  closed  ;  a  hermit  dwells  in  a  little  shrine 
within  its  range,  and  beggars  of  all  kinds  nestle  beneath  its  crumbling 
arches  :  the  latter  had  lit  a  fire  on  the  arena,  and  a  gentle  wind  bore  down 
the  smoke  to  the  ground,  so  that  the  lower  portion  of  the  ruins  was  quite 
hid  by  it,  while  af)ove  the  vast  walls  stood  out  in  deeper  darkness  before 
the  eye.  As  we  stopped  at  the  gate  to  contem]ilate  the  scene  through  the 
iron  gratings,  the  moon  shone  brightly  in  the  heavens  above.  Presently 
the  smoke  found  its  way  up  the  sides,  and  through  every  chink  and 
opening,  while  the  moon  lit  it  up  like  a  cloud." 


ROME  341 

dead,  whose  shadows  seem  yet  to  Hnger  about  the  habitations 
they  loved  so  well  when  living.  Yonder  stood  that  venerable 
Forum,  the  hearth  and  home  of  early  as  of  imperial  Rome ; 
the  market,  the  exchange,  the  judgment-seat,  the  promenade, 
the  parliament,  where  lived,  and  moved,  and  loved  and  fought 
that  iron  nation  predestined  to  possess  the  earth,  founded  (in 
the  fabulous  days  when  the  world  was  young,  and  the  gods 
loved  "  the  daughters  of  men  ")  by  Romulus  on  the  field  where 
he  waged  battle  with  the  Sabine  forces.  Finding  that  his 
troops  were  flying  before  the  enemy,  and  that  no  one  would 
face  about  to  fight,  Romulus  knelt  down  in  the  midst  of  this 
terrified  soldiers,  and  lifting  up  his  hands  to  heaven,  prayed 
"  Father  Jupiter "  to  defend  and  rally  his  people,  now  in 
extreme  peril.  Jupiter,  it  was  believed,  heard  and  granted  his 
prayer ;  for  the  fugitives,  struck  with  sudden  reverence  for 
their  king,  turned,  re-formed  their  broken  lines,  and  repulsed 
the  advancing  Sabines.  But  the  daughters  of  the  Sabines, 
who  had  previously  been  forcibly  carried  off  from  the  Great 
Circus,  rushed  down  from  the  Aventine  between  the  opposing 
armies,  with  their  infants  in  their  arms,  calling  now  on  a 
Roman  husband,  now  on  a  Sabine  father  or  brother  to  desist, 
and  so  stayed  the  fight  by  their  cries,  lamentations,  and 
entreaties.  Peace  was  then  concluded  between  the  two 
nations,  and  Tatius,  the  Sabine  king,  offered  sacrifices  and 
joined  in  eternal  friendship  with  Romulus  —  burying  the 
wrongs  done  to  the  Sabine  women  in  the  foundations  of  the 
common  Forum.  Tarquinius  Priscus  erected  spacious  porti- 
coes around  it  to  screen  and  temper  the  halls  from  the  sun 
and  wind,  and  built  shops  for  the  foreign  wares  that  came 
from  Ostia,  Antium,  and  Etruria  :  those  shops  for  ever  famous 
as  the  spot  where  perished  the  girl  Virginia  by  her  father's 
hand. 

I 

I  endeavoured  to  rebuild  the  fallen  walls  of  the  Forum 
such  as  they  afterwards  appeared — a  vast  and  noble  enclosure 
—surrounded  by  many  ranges  of  marble  columns,  open  arcades, 
and  majestic  porticoes,  stretching  away  in  long  lines  towards 
the  Capitoline  Mount.  Between  these  stately  colonnades 
rose  a  wall  of  division,  hung,  in  the  time  of  Caesar,  with 
splendid  drapery,  to  shelter  the  togaed  senators,  tribunes,  and 
patricians,  who  paced  up  and  down  on  brilliant  mosaic  floors, 
or  sat  in  judgment  in  the  senate-house,  or  gave  laws  to  the 


342  THE  BOOK   OF   ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

universe.    Innumerable  statues,  modelled  by  the  best  sculptors 
of  Greece  and   Rome,  broke  the  lines  of  the  pillars,  while 
brilliant  paintings  decorated  the  internal  walls,  within  whose 
ample  enclosure  rose  three  great  basilicas — the  Optima,  the 
.•Emilian,  and  the  Julian,  besides  the  Comitium,  where  the 
CuricB  met.     The  rostra  also  stood  within  the  Forum,  contain- 
ing the  orator's  pulpit,  where  Rome  so  often  hung  enchanted 
over  the  eloquence  of  Cicero  ;   where  Mark  Antony  fired  the 
populace  to  revenge  "great  Caesar's  fall,"  the  mutilated  body 
lying  on  a  bier  exposed  before  him ;  where  Caius  Gracchus 
melted  the  hearts  of  his  audience ;  and  where  Manlius  sought 
to  suspend  the  fatal  sentence  hanging  over  him  as  he  pointed 
to  the  Capitol  and  bade  his  countrymen  remember  how  his 
arm  alone  had  sustained  it.     Close  at  hand  was  the  tribunal 
where  the  magistrates  sat  on  ivory  chairs,  whence  came  the 
decree  of  Brutus  condemning  his  own  sons  to  die,  and  that 
other  of  Titus  Manlius,  who  preferred  his  son's  death  at  his 
tribunal  rather  than,  living,  know  him  disobedient  to  the  con- 
sular power,  then  vested  in  himself — barbarous  rigour,  that 
afterwards   wrought   such   grief  and   woe,  when   power   and 
injustice  went  hand  in  hand    in    Rome  !       Near  here  grew 
the  Ruminalis — that  mysterious  fig  tree  whose  shade  sheltered 
Romulus  and  Remus  while  the  wolf  suckled  them.     In  the 
time  of  Augustus  it  was  enclosed  in  a  temple.     The  sanctuary 
of  Vesta,  with  its  roof  of  bronze,  stood  near  the  Comitium, 
circular  in  shape,  chaste,  and  pure  in  design,  where  the  sacred 
virgins,  clad  in  long  white  vestments  bordered  with  imperial 
purple,  tended  the  sacred  fire  that  burned  under  the  image  of 
the  goddess,  and  guarded  the  Palladium—a  golden  shield,  on 
whose  preservation  it  was  said   Rome's  existence  depended. 
Behind  the  temple,  at  the  foot  of  the  Palatine,  stretches  a 
wood  of  evergreen  oaks  devoted  to  silence  and  repose,  where 
the  dark  branches  waved  over  the  tombs  of  departed  vestals, 
whose  spirits  it  was  believed  passed  at  once  to  the  delights  of 
the  Elysian  Fields.      Under  the  Palatine  Hill,  and  near  the 
shrine  of  Vesta,  a  pure  fountain  of  freshest  water  broke  into  a 
magnificent  marble  basin  close  to  the  portico  of  a  temple 
dedicated  to  Castor  and  Pollux.     It  was  said,  and  believed, 
that  after  the  battle  of  Lake  Regillus,  the  great  twin  brethren, 
mounted  on  snow-white  horses  and  radiant  in  celestial  beauty, 
suddenly   appeared   in   the    Forum,   and   announced   to   the 
anxious  and  expectant  multitude  the  victory  gained  by  their 
fellow-citizens  over   the    Etruscans.      At   this  fountain   they 


ROME  343 

stopped  and  refreshed  iheir  horses,  and  when  asked  whence 
they  came  and  by  what  name  men  called  them,  they  suddenly 
disappeared.  So  the  Romans  raised  a  temple  to  their  honour 
by  the  spring  where  they  had  rested  on  mortal  earth. 

II 

Where  now  the  moon  lights  up  a  barren  space,  the  Gulf  of 
Curtius  once  yawned  in  the  very  midst  of  the  Forum,  to  the 
horror  and  astonishment  of  the  superstitious  senators,  who 
judged  the  omen  so  awful,  that  the  anger  of  the  gods  could 
only  be  allayed  by  the  sacrifice  of  what  Rome  deemed  most 
precious — a  bold  and  noble  warrior,  armed  cap-a-pie^  who  flung 
himself  headlong  into  the  abyss. 

Afterwards  Domitian  raised,  as  it  were  in  derision,  a 
colossal  statue  of  himself  over  this  spot  hallowed  by  patriotic 
recollections.  Beside  it  stands  the  single  column  of  Phocas, 
once  crowned  by  his  gilded  statue ;  while,  to  the  right,  the 
massive  pile  of  the  triumphant  Arch  of  Severus  flings  down 
black  shadows  on  the  marble  stairs  descending  from  the 
Capitol. 

The  Capitol,  the  heart  of  Rome,  the  sanctuary  of  the 
pagan  world,  stood  forth  in  my  fancy  radiant  and  glorious, 
piled  with  glittering  temples,  superb  porticoes,  and  lofty 
arches,  the  abodes  of  the  gods  on  earth.  Here,  amidst 
statues,  monuments  and  columns,  rose  sumptuous  fanes  con- 
secrated to  Peace,  to  Vespasian,  Jupiter  Feretrius  and  Saturn ; 
while  crowning  the  hill  and  overlooking  the  Forum,  is  the 
Tabularium,  surrounded  by  long  ranges  of  open  porticoes, 
within  whose  walls  hang  recorded,  on  tables  of  brass,  the 
treaties  Rome  concluded  with  friends  or  enemies. 

Around  is  an  open  space  called  the  Intermontium,  between 
the  rising  peaks  of  the  hill,  where  grew  a  few  shattered  time- 
worn  oaks,  endeared  to  the  plebs  by  the  recollection  that 
Romulus  made  this  spot  at  all  times  the  most  sacred  and 
inviolable  asylum  to  those  who  sought  the  hospitality  of  his 
new  city.  All  crimes,  all  treasons  safely  harboured  here !  To 
the  right,  high  above  the  rest,  uprose  the  awful  temple  of 
Jupiter  Capitolinus,  at  once  a  fortress  and  a  sanctuary — the 
most  venerable  and  the  most  gorgeous  pile  that  the  imagina- 
tion of  man  can  conceive,  adorned  with  all  that  art  could 
invent,  and  blazing  with  the  plunder  of  the  world.  Here 
came  the  consuls  to  assume  the  military  dress,  and  to  offer 


344  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

sacrifices  before  proceeding  to  battle.  Here,  in  special  seasons 
of  danger,  the  senate  assembled  before  the  statue  of  the  god 
who  presided,  as  it  were,  over  the  destinies  of  the  people  ; 
here  the  tables  of  the  law  were  displayed  to  the  citizens,  and 
the  most  splendid  religious  rites  performed.  The  fagade, 
turned  towards  the  south  and  east,  consisted  of  a  gigantic 
portico  supported  by  six  ranges  of  columns  ;  statues  of  gilt 
bron/.e  alternated  with  the  pillars,  on  which  were  suspended 
countless  trophies  of  victory,  magnificent  shields  and  plates  of 
gold,  glittering  arms  won  from  barbarian  enemies,  together  with 
swords,  axes,  and  shields  worn  by  generals  who  had  returned 
victorious  to  Rome,  and  who  had  enjoyed  the  honours  of  a 
military  triumph.  Statues  of  gilt  bronze  were  ranged  along 
the  roof,  covered  in  with  tiles  of  gilt  brass,  all  save  the  cupola, 
which  was  open,  disdaining  any  other  roofing  than  that  of  the 
eternal  heavens.  Superb  basso-relievi  decorated  the  entabla- 
ture and  frieze,  and  vast  colonnades  of  the  most  precious 
marbles  extended  on  either  side  of  the  central  temple.  Unking 
together  two  side  porticoes  of  almost  equal  splendour.  That 
to  the  right  was  dedicated  to  Juno  ;  that  to  the  left  to  Minerva, 
the  wife  and  daughter  of  the  terrible  god  who  sat  enthroned 
within  the  gilded  walls  of  the  central  sanctuary,  crowned  with 
a  golden  diadem,  wearing  a  toga  of  purple,  and  holding  in  his 
hand  the  awful  thunder  destined  to  destroy  the  enemies  of 
imperial  Rome.  Jupiter,  "supremely  great  and  good,"  had 
never,  according  to  the  Romans,  condescended  to  inhabit  any 
other  earthly  abode,  and  was  particularly  propitious  when 
approached  in  his  great  temple  on  the  Capitol,  where  his 
altars  burned  with  perpetual  incense  spread  by  imperial  hands, 
and  generals,  Caesars,  kings,  and  potentates  came  from  the  far 
ends  of  the  earth  to  offer  costly  sacrifices  and  worship. — 
Mrs.  Elliot. 

The  Palatine 

Augustus  was  the  founder  of  the  Palace  of  the  Caesars. 
He  comprised  within  his  own  habitation  the  house  of  Horten- 
sius,  of  Cicero,  and  of  some  other  of  the  victims  of  that  bloody 
proscription  which  sealed  the  last  Triumvirate.  .  .  .  Not  satis- 
fied with  the  splendid  dwelling  of  his  predecessor,  Tiberius 
built  himself  a  house  on  the  north  side  of  the  Palatine,  looking 
into  the  Velabrum.  Caligula,  though  he  had  the  two  houses 
of  the  two  preceding  emperors,  built  himself  two  more ;  one 
on  the  north-east  corner  of  the  Palatine,  fronting  the  Capitol, 


ROME  345 

and  the  other  on  the  Capitoline  hill  itself;  and  these  he  con- 
nected by  a  bridge  thrown  across  the  Forum,  which  Claudius, 
though  not  very  wise  himself,  had  sense  enough  to  pull  down, 
as  well  as  the  house  on  the  Capitol. 

Then  came  Nero,  and  built  himself  a  house,  which  he 
called  Transitoria,  and  burnt  it  down,  and  Rome  along  with 
it ;  and  erected  the  Domus  Aurea,  a  palace  such  as  the  world 
never  saw.  Not  only  was  the  whole  of  its  interior  covered 
with  gold  and  with  gems  .  .  .  but  it  was  adorned  with  the 
finest  paintings  and  statues  the  world  could  furnish — the  most 
exquisite  productions  of  Greek  art.  We  read,  too,  of  triple 
porticoes  a  mile  in  length ;  of  a  circular  banqueting  room, 
that  perpetually  turned  round  night  and  day,  in  imitation  of 
the  motion  of  the  sun ;  of  vaulted  ceilings  of  ivory,  which 
opened  of  themselves  and  scattered  flowers  upon  the  guests, 
and  golden  pipes  that  shed  over  them  showers  of  soft  per- 
fumes. Not  content  with  covering  the  whole  of  the  Palatine 
with  his  "Golden  House,"  Nero  extended  its  gardens  and 
pleasure-grounds  over  the  whole  plain  south  of  the  Forum, 
and  even  upon  the  Esquiline  and  Cselian  hills.  The  Colos- 
seum occupies  the  site  of  the  largest  of  these  lakes  Nero  made 
in  his  gardens,  which  Tacitus  describes  in  such  glowing 
colours.  .  .  .  But  we  must  remember  that  the  word  lacus  was 
applied  by  the  Romans  to  every  piece  of  still  water,  however 
small.  .  .  .  The  principal  one  .  .  .  was  drained  to  make  way 
for  the  immense  circumference  of  the  Flavian  Amphitheatre. 
...  It  is  said  that  Vespasian,  at  the  same  time  that  he 
drained  the  lake,  pulled  down  all  that  Nero  had  erected 
beyond  the  Palatine,  reducing  the  Imperial  Palace  to  the  hill 
that  once  contained  Rome.  .  .  .  Domitian  began  to  build  up 
what  his  predecessors  had  pulled  down,  and  added  to  the 
palace  the  Adonea,  or  halls  and  gardens  of  Adonis,  the  sur- 
passing splendour  of  which  excited  the  astonishment  even  of 
that  age  of  magnificence.  This  celebrated  building  was  still 
standing  in  the  time  of  Severus. — Mrs.  Eato?i. 

Campus  Martius 

From  the  hills  we  descended  to  the  Campus  Martius,  in 
the  early  ages  of  the  Republic  an  open  field  devoted  to  military 
exercises  and  well  calculated  for  that  purpose  by  its  level  grassy 
surface,  and  the  neighbourhood  of  the  river  winding  along 
its  border.     In  process  of  time  some  edifices  of  public  utility 


346  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

were  erected  upon  it ;  but  their  number  was  small  during  the 
Republic  ;  while  under  the  Emperors  they  were  increased  to 
such  a  degree,  that  the  Campus  Martius  became  another  city 
composed  of  theatres,  porticoes,  baths  and  temples.  These 
edifices  were  not  only  magnificent  in  themselves,  but  sur- 
rounded with  groves  and  walks,  and  arranged  with  a  due  re- 
gard to  perspective  beauty.  Such  is  the  idea  which  we  must 
naturally  form  of  buildings  erected  by  Consuls  and  Emperors, 
each  endeavouring  to  rival  or  surpass  his  predecessor  in  mag- 
nificence ;  and  such  is  the  description  which  Strabo  gives  of 
the  Campus  in  his  time,  that  is,  nearly  in  the  time  of  its 
greatest  glory.  This  superb  theatre  of  glorious  edifices,  when 
beheld  from  the  Janiculum,  bordered  in  front  by  the  Tiber, 
and  closed  behind  by  the  Capitol,  the  Viminal,  the  Quirinal, 
and  the  Pincian  hills,  with  temples,  palaces  and  gardens 
lining  their  sides  and  swelling  from  their  summits,  must  have 
formed  a  picture  of  astonishing  beauty,  splendour  and  variety, 
and  have  justified  the  proud  appellation  so  often  bestowed  on 
Rome  of  "  the  temple  and  abode  of  the  gods."  But  of  all  the 
pompous  fabrics  that  formed  this  assemblage  of  wonders  how 
few  remain  !  and  of  the  remaining  few  how  small  the  numbers 
of  those  which  retain  any  features  of  their  ancient  majesty  ! 
Among  these  latter  can  hardly  be  reckoned  Augustus'  tomb,  the 
vast  vaults  and  substructions  of  which  indeed  exist,  but  its 
pyramidal  form  and  pillars  are  no  more ;  or  Marcellus'  theatre 
half  buried  under  the  superstructure  raised  upon  its  vaulted 
galleries ;  or  the  portico  of  Octavia  lost  with  its  surviving  arch 
and  a  few  shattered  pillars  in  the  Pescheria.  Of  such  surviving 
edifices  the  principal  indeed  is  the  Pantheon  itself. — Eustace. 

The  Pantheon  ^ 

The  square  of  the  Pantheon,  or  Piazza  della  Rotonda,  is 
adorned  with  a  fountain  and  an  obelisk,  and  terminated  by 
the  portico  of  Agrippa.  This  noble  colonnade  consists  of  a 
double  range  of  Corinthian  pillars  of  red  granite.  Between 
the  middle  columns,  which  are  a  little  farther  removed  from 
each  other  than  the  others,  a  passage  opens  to  the  brazen 
portals  which,  as  they  unfold,  expose  to  view  a  circular  hall 
of  immense  extent,  crowned  with  a  lofty  dome,  and  lighted 

^  Michael  Angelo  made  very  few  changes  in  converting  this  temple 
into  the  church  of  S.  Maria  Rotunda.  Among  the  tombs  are  those  of 
Raphael,  Annibale  Caracci,  and  of  Victor  Emmanuel  and  King  Humbert- 


I 


ROME  347 

solely  from  above.  It  is  paved  and  lined  with  marble.  Its 
cornice  of  white  marble  is  supported  by  sixteen  columns  arid 
as  many  pilasters  of  giallo  antico  (antique  yellow) ;  in  the  cir- 
cumference there  are  eight  niches,  and  between  these  niches 
are  eight  altars  adorned  each  with  two  pillars  of  less  size  but 
of  the  same  materials.  The  niches  were  anciently  occupied 
by  statues  of  the  great  deities  ;  the  intermediate  altars  served 
as  pedestals  for  the  inferior  powers.  The  proportions  of  this 
temple  are  admirable  for  the  effect  intended  to  be  produced  ; 
its  height  being  equal  to  its  diameter,  and  its  dome  not  an 
oval  but  an  exact  hemisphere. 

Such  is  the  Pantheon,  the  most  noble  and  perfect  specimen 
of  Roman  art  and  magnificence  that  time  has  spared,  or  the 
ancients  could  have  wished  to  transmit  to  posterity.  It  has 
served  in  fact  as  a  lesson  and  a  model  to  succeeding  genera- 
tions ;  and  to  it  Constantinople  is  indebted  for  Santa  Sophia, 
and  to  it  Rome,  or  rather  the  world,  owes  the  unrivalled  dome 
of  the  Vatican. — Eustace. 

The  Mole  of  Hadrian 

The  Emperor  Hadrian,  who  delighted  in  architecture  and 
magnificence,  determined  to  rival,  or  more  probably  to  surpass, 
the  splendour  of  Augustus's  tomb,  and  erected  a  mausoleum, 
which,  from  its  size  and  solidity,  was  called  Moles  Hadriani 
(Hadrian's  Mole).i  As  the  Campus  Martius  was  already 
crowned  with  tombs,  temples,  and  theatres,  he  selected  for  its 
site  a  spot  on  the  opposite  bank  of  the  river,  at  the  foot  of 
the  Vatican  Mount ;  where,  on  a  vast  quadrangular  platform 
of  solid  stone,  he  raised  a  lofty  circular  edifice  surrounded  by 
a  Corinthian  portico,  supported  by  twenty-four  pillars  of  a 
beautiful  kind  of  white  marble  tinged  with  purple.  The  tholus, 
or  continuation  of  the  inner  wall,  formed  a  second  story 
adorned  with  Ionic  pilasters  ;  a  dome  surmounted  by  a  cone 
of  brass  crowned  the  whole  fabric,  and  gave  to  it  the  appear- 
ance of  a  most  majestic  temple.  To  increase  its  splendour, 
four  statues  occupied  the  four  corners  of  the  platform,  twenty- 
four  adorned  the  portico,  and  occupied  the  intervals  between 
the  columns ;  an  equal  number  rose  above  the  entablature  ; 
and  a  proportional  series  occupied  the  niches  of  the  second 
story  between  the  pilasters.  It  is  superfluous  to  observe  that 
the  whole  fabric  was  cased  with  marble,  or  that  the  statues 
1  It  afterwards  became  the  Castle  of  St.  Angelo. 


348  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

were  the  works  of  the  best  masters ;  and  it  is  almost  unneces- 
sary to  add,  that  this  monument  was  considered  as  the  noblest 
sepulchral  edifice  ever  erected,  and  one  of  the  proudest  orna- 
ments of  Rome,  even  when  she  shone  in  all  her  imperial 
magnificence. 

Yet  the  glory  of  this  mausoleum  was  transitory  ;  its  match- 
less beauty  claimed  in  vain  the  attention  of  absent  emperors  ; 
the  genius  of  Hadrian,  the  manes  of  the  virtuous  Antonini, 
names  so  dear  to  the  Roman  world,  pleaded  in  vain  for  its 
preservation.  The  hand  of  time  daily  defaced  its  ornaments, 
the  zeal  of  Honorius  stripped  it  of  its  pillars,  and  the  military 
skill  of  Belisarius  turned  it  into  a  temporary  fortress. — Eustace. 

The  Circus  of  Caracalla 

This  circus,  about  two  miles  from  the  gates  of  Rome, 
presents  such  remnants  of  its  ancient  walls  as  enable  us  to 
form  a  clear  notion  of  the  different  parts  and  arrangements  of 
a  circus.  A  considerable  portion  of  the  exterior,  and  in  many 
places  the  vault  that  supported  the  seats,  remain.  The 
foundation  of  the  two  obelisks  that  terminated  the  spina  (a 
sort  of  separation  that  ran  lengthwise  through  the  circus)  and 
formed  the  goals,  still  exists.  Near  the  principal  goal  on  one 
side,  behind  the  benches,  stands  a  sort  of  tower  where  the 
judges  sat.  One  of  the  extremities  supported  a  gallery  which 
contained  a  band  of  musicians,  and  is  flanked  by  two  towers, 
whence  the  signal  for  starting  was  given.  Its  length  is  one 
thousand  six  hundred  and  two  feet,  its  breadth  two  hundred 
and  sixty  :  the  length  of  the  spina  is  nine  hundred  and  twenty- 
two.  The  distance  from  the  career  or  end,  whence  they 
started  to  the  first  jneta  or  goal,  was  five  hundred  and  fifty 
feet.  There  were  seven  ranges  of  seats,  which  contained  about 
twenty-seven  thousand  spectators.  As  jostling  and  every 
exertion  of  skill,  strength,  or  cunning  were  allowed,  the 
chariots  were  occasionally  overturned,  and  as  the  drivers  had 
the  reins  tied  round  their  bodies,  several  melancholy  accidents 
took  place.  To  remove  the  bodies  of  charioteers  bruised  or 
killed  in  such  exertions,  a  large  gate  was  open  in  the  side 
of  the  circus  near  the  first  7neta,  where  such  accidents  were 
likeliest  to  take  place  on  account  of  the  narrowness  of  the 
space;  and  this  precaution  was  necessary,  as  the  ancients 
deemed  it  a  most  portentous  omen  to  go  through  a  gate  defiled 
by  the  passage  of  a  dead  body.    On  the  end  opposite  the  career 


ROME  349 

was  a  triumphal  arch,  or  grand  gate,  through  which  the 
victorious  charioteer  drove  amidst  the  shouts  and  acclamations 
of  the  spectators.  There  were  originally  four  sets  of  drivers, 
named  from  the  colours  which  they  wore — Albati  (White), 
Russati  (Red),  Prasini  (Green),  and  Veneti  (Blue).  To  these 
four  Domitian  added  two  more,  Aurei  (Yellow),  and  Fur- 
purei  (Purple).  Each  colour  drove  five  rounds  with  fresh 
horses.  There  are  stables,  therefore,  close  to  the  circus ; 
and  in  the  centre  of  these  stables  a  circular  fabric  of  at 
least  seventy-two  feet  diameter,  with  an  open  space  around 
inclosed  by  a  high  wall.  This  building  was  probably  a  riding- 
school,  and  is  supposed  to  have  been  crowned  with  a  temple. 
— Eustace. 

ISOLA    TiBERINA 

The  Isola  Tiberina,  called  during  the  middle  ages  Isola  di 
S.  Bartolomeo,  the  island  of  S.  Bartholomew,^  is  situated  in 
the  middle  of  the  Tiber,  a  little  below  the  Ponte  Sisto.  .  .  . 
The  communication  from  the  city  to  the  Isola  and  thence  to 
the  Trastavere  is  preserved  by  two  bridges,  one  on,  the  other 
off  the  island,  the  first  called  the  Ponte  di  Quatro  Capi,  and 
the  second  the  Ponte  S.  Bartolomeo.  .  .  .  Without  troubling 
ourselves  with  the  uncertain  causes  that  led  to  the  island's  first 
appearance,  ...  an  event  connected  with  its  early  history,  and 
referred  to  by  Livy,  which  occurred  about  62  years  after  its 
supposed  origin,  or  291  years  before  the  Christian  era;  and 
first  led  to  its  being  occupied  by  houses  and  buildings  as  it  is 
at  present,   ...   is  related  as  follows  : 

At  the  period  above  stated  Rome  was  visited  by  a  severe 
plague,  that  ravaged  both  town  and  country,  to  use  the 
identical  expression  of  the  writer,  like  a  burning  pestilence, 
and  caused  so  violent  a  sensation  among  the  authorities,  that 
the  Senate  determined,  after  having  duly  consulted  the  Sibylline 
books  in  the  Capitol,  to  despatch  an  embassy  to  the  celebrated 
god  of  medicine,  Esculapius  whose  principal  temple  was  in 
the  town  of  Epidaurus,  in  the  Peloponnesus.  The  expedition 
was  necessarily  postponed  for  a  considerable  period  in  conse- 
quence of  military  operations  at  that  time  in  progress ;  but 
eventually,  after  the  priests  had  made  propitiatory  sacrifices, 
and  the  people  had  offered  up  a  general  supplication  to  the 
deity,  it  departed.     The  ship  that  conveyed  the  deputation 

'  With  a  church  containing  the  body  of  St.  Bartholomew  deposited,  if 
the  tradition  be  accurate,  in  938. 


350  THE  BOOK   OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

having  arrived  at  Epidaurus,  the  high  priest  of  [Esculapius 
presented  to  the  members  of  that  body  as  a  remedy  for  the 
contagious  distemper  that  prevailed,  a  sacred  snake  or  serpent, 
of  which  creatures  there  were  it  appears  several  kept  alive 
in  the  temple.  .  .  .  The  Esculapian  snake  in  question 
was  safely  conveyed  on  the  way  homeward  across  the  Mediter- 
ranean and  up  the  Tiber,  but  in  the  process  of  disembarkation 
the  reptile  somehow  or  other  made  its  escape,  and  slipping 
through  its  keeper's  fingers  got  to  island  ;  which  accident  it 
would  seem  was  considered  a  miraculous  indication  on  the 
part  of  the  deity  of  the  spot  whereon  to  build  him  a  temple  ; 
and  a  temple  dedicated  to  Esculapius  was  built  there  accor- 
dingly. At  the  same  time,  in  commemoration  of  the  expedition 
to  Epidaurus,  the  island,  naturally  of  a  narrow  oval  form, 
lying  with  its  longer  axis  in  the  direction  of  the  stream,  was 
fashioned  at  its  southern  extremity  into  the  form  of  the  bow  of 
a  ship,  and  covered  with  an  encasement  of  stone  formed  of 
blocks  of  travertino ;  and,  in  addition,  an  obelisk  of  granite 
was  erected  in  the  middle  in  imitation  of  a  mast. 

The  island  at  the  present  day,  from  its  oval  form,  is  easily 
reconcilable  with  the  tale  related  of  it,  and  is  about  1200  feet 
in  length,  400  feet  across  the  middle,  and  contains,  notwith- 
standing the  limited  area,  a  church,  a  convent,  an  hospital, 
and  a  considerable  number  of  small  dwelling-houses.  .  .  . 
Upon  the  eastern  side  there  is  a  descent  by  a  very  steep  flight 
of  steps,  that  may  be  compared  to  a  ship's  rope  ladder,  to  the 
beach,  which,  whenever  the  river  happens  to  be  tolerably  low, 
affords  a  sufficient  footing  of  dry  land  to  stand  upon  and 
inspect  the  artificial  formation  of  the  bank  above  alluded  to. 
The  form,  corresponding  with  the  bow  of  a  ship,  may  be 
distinctly  recognised,  and  the  encasement  of  solid  blocks  of 
travertino,^  reduced  to  a  smooth  face,  is  surmounted  by  a 
frieze  sculptured  in  bas-relief  with  appropriate  emblems  of  the 
Epidaurian  embassy,  where  the  serpent  may  be  very  clearly 
distinguished. — Sir  G.  Head. 

The  Environs  of  Ancient  Rome 

Immediately  under  our  eyes,  and  at  the  foot  of  the  Capitol, 

lay  the  Forum,  lined  with  solitary  columns,  and  terminated  at 

each  end  by  a  triumphal  arch.     Beyond  and  just  before  us, 

rose  the  Palatine  Mount,  encumbered  with  the  substructions 

'  Very  rarely  used  before  the  first  century  B.C. 


I 


ROME  351 

of  the  Imperial  Palace,  and  of  the  Temple  of  Apollo ;  and 
farther  on,  ascended  the  Celian  Mount  with  the  Temple  of 
Faunus  on  its  summit.  On  the  right  was  the  Aventine, 
spotted  with  heaps  of  stone  swelling  amidst  its  lonely  vine- 
yards. To  the  left,  the  Esquiline,  with  its  scattered  tombs 
and  tottering  aqueducts ;  and  in  the  same  line,  the  Viminal, 
and  the  Quirinal  supporting  the  once  magnificent  Baths  of 
Diocletian.  The  Baths  of  Antoninus,  the  Temple  of  Minerva, 
and  many  a  venerable  fabric  bearing  on  its  shattered  form 
the  traces  of  destruction,  as  well  as  the  furrows  of  age,  lay 
scattered  up  and  down  the  vast  field  ;  while  the  superb  temples 
of  St.  John  Lateran,  Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  and  Santa  Croce, 
arose  with  their  pointed  obelisks,  majestic  but  solitary  monu- 
ments, amidst  the  extensive  waste  of  time  and  of  desolation. 
The  ancient  walls,  a  vast  circumference,  formed  a  frame  of 
venerable  aspect,  well  adapted  to  this  picture  of  ruin,  this 
cemetery  of  ages,  Roniani  biistum  populi. 

Beyond  the  walls  the  eye  ranged  over  the  storied  plain 
of  Latium,  now  the  deserted  Campagna,  and  rested  on  the 
Alban  Mount,  which  rose  before  us  to  the  south,  shelving 
downwards  on  the  west  towards  Antium  and  the  Tyrrhene 
sea,  and  on  the  east  towards  the  Latin  vale.  Here,  it  presents 
Tusculum  in  white  lines  on  its  declivity  ;  there,  it  exhibits  the 
long  ridge  that  overhangs  its  lake,  once  the  site  of  Alba  Longa, 
and  towering  boldly  in  the  centre  with  a  hundred  towns  and 
villas  on  its  sides,  it  terminates  in  a  point  once  crowned  with 
the  triumphal  temple  of  Jupiter  Latialis.  Turning  eastward, 
we  beheld  the  Tiburtine  hills,  with  Tibur  reclining  on  their 
side ;  and  behind,  still  more  to  the  east,  the  Sabine  mountains 
enclosed  by  the  Apennines,  which  at  the  varying  distance  of 
from  forty  to  sixty  miles  swept  round  to  the  east  and  north, 
forming  an  immense  and  bold  boundary  of  snow.  The  Monies 
Cimtni  (the  Ciminian  Mountains),  and  several  lesser  hills, 
diverging  from  the  great  parent  ridge,  the  Pater  Apefininus 
(Father  Apennine),  continue  the  chain  till  it  nearly  reaches 
the  sea  and  forms  a  perfect  theatre.  Mount  Soracte,  thirty 
miles  to  the  north,  lifts  his  head,  an  insulated  and  striking 
feature.  While  the  Tiber,  enriched  by  numberless  rivers  and 
streamlets,  intersects  the  immense  plain ;  and  bathing  the 
temples  and  palaces  of  Rome,  rolls,  like  the  Po,  a  current 
unexhausted  even  during  the  scorching  heats  of  summer. 

The  tract  now  expanded  before  us  was  the  country  of  the 
Etrurians,  Veientes,  Rutuli,  Falisci,   Latins,    Sabines,  Volsci, 


352  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Aequi  and  Hernici,  and  of  course  the  scene  of  the  wars  and 
the  exertions  of  the  victories  and  the  triumphs  of  infant  Rome, 
during  a  period  of  nearly  four  hundred  years  of  her  history. — 
Eustace. 

The  Apostles  in  Rome 

I  wish  to  note  down  the  traditionary  footsteps  of  St.  Peter 
and  St.  Paul  at  Rome,  having  visited  the  various  spots  con- 
nected with  their  supposed  residence  here  with  great  interest. 
.  .  .  While  St.  Peter  was  still  unmolested  and  residing  at  the 
house  of  Pudens — now  the  spot  where  stands  the  interesting 
and  most  ancient  church  of  Santa  Pudenziana,  near  Santa 
Maria  Maggiore — he  again  exhibited  an  example  of  that  weak- 
ness of  character  which  led  him  basely  to  deny  the  Divine 
Lord  he  loved.  A  persecution  against  the  Christians  was 
again  threatened ;  he  became  alarmed  for  his  personal  safety, 
and  his  friends  strongly  urged  his  flight.  Peter  listened  to 
them,  and  allowing  himself  to  be  influenced  by  their  persua- 
sions, he  fled  from  Rome,  passing  out  of  the  Porta  San 
Sebastiano,  under  the  massive  arch  of  Drusus,  spanning  the 
Appian  Way — now  called  the  Street  of  Tombs. 

He  proceeded  a  mile,  to  a  spot  where  the  road  separates, 
forming  a  fork,  leading  in  one  direction  towards  the  Fountain 
of  Egeria,  and  by  the  other  to  the  church  of  San  Sebastiano, 
built  over  the  most  practicable  entrance  into  the  catacombs, 
beside  the  tomb  of  Cecilia  Metella.  St.  Peter,  says  eccle- 
siastical tradition,  had  reached  this  precise  fork  where  the 
road  separates,  when  he  beheld  advancing  towards  him  his 
Divine  Master.  Astonished  at  the  sight,  he  exclaimed,  "Lord, 
where  goest  thou  ?"  ("  Domine  quo  vadis  ?  ")  To  which  ques- 
tion the  glorified  form  replied,  "I  go  to  Rome,  to  be  again 
crucified  ; "  and  disappeared. 

This  vision  explained  to  the  Apostle  what  were  the  inten- 
tions of  his  Divine  Master  respecting  himself,  and  the  meaning 
of  that  prophecy — "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  When  thou 
wast  young  thou  girdedst  thyself,  and  walkedst  whither  thou 
wouldest ;  but  when  thou  art  old  thou  shalt  stretch  forth  thine 
hands,  and  another  shall  gird  thee  and  carry  thee  whither  thou 
wouldest  not."  He  instantly  retraced  his  steps,  and  returned 
to  Rome,  where  shortly  the  deepest  dungeons  of  the  Mamertine 
prisons  opened  to  receive  him. 

The  actual  church  of  Domine  quo  Vadis  has  nothing  but  its 
beautifully  suggestive  legend  to  recommend  it,  otherwise  it  is  a 


ROME  353 

miserable  little  place ;  indeed,  there  is  a  vulgar,  tawdry  look 
about  the  interior  quite  painful  to  the  feelings  of  those  who 
arrive  eager  to  behold  the  scene  of  one,  if  not  the  most  touch- 
ing, of  the  Church's  early  legends.  A  stone,  bearing  the  im- 
press of  what  is  said  to  have  been  the  Divine  foot,  but  which 
measures  some  thirty  inches  at  least  in  length,  and  is  singularly 
"  out  of  drawing  "  in  every  way,  stands  just  at  the  entrance  to 
the  nave. 

When  the  Apostles  quitted  the  Mamertine  prisons,  tradi- 
tion leads  them  to  the  Ostian  Way,  where  they  were  separated 
previous  to  undergoing  martyrdom.  A  stone  marks  the  spot, 
engraven  with  their  parting  words  :  "  Peace  be  with  thee,  thou 
founder  of  the  Church  " — (St.  Paul  is  supposed  to  say  to  St. 
Peter) — "thou  shepherd  of  the  universal  flock  of  Jesus  Christ." 
To  which  St.  Peter  replied,  "  God  be  with  thee,  thou  mighty 
preacher,  who  guidest  the  just  in  the  living  way."  St.  Paul 
was  then  led  on  to  a  deserted  plain  three  miles  from  the  city, 
to  which  I  shall  return,  first  following  the  footsteps  of  St.  Peter 
through  the  busy  streets,  and  over  the  Tiber,  to  the  steep 
heights  of  the  Janiculum,  where,  in  sight  of  great  pagan  Rome, 
he  suffered  crucifixion— begging  of  his  executioners  to  be 
reversed  on  the  cruel  tree,  as  a  last  and  crowning  act  of 
humiliation,  declaring  himself  unworthy  to  die  in  the  same 
upright  attitude  as  his  Divine  Master. 

Where  he  expired,  and  on  the  spot  where  the  cross  was 
erected,  now  stands  the  church  of  San  Pietro  in  Montorio.  It 
was  selected  by  Rome's  republican  defenders  as  a  barrack — 
showing  how  little  Papal  teaching  for  the  last  eighteen  centuries 
had  profited  the  lower  population  of  its  own  capital. 

...  I  must  now  take  up  the  traditionary  footsteps  of  St. 
Paul  from  the  same  point  as  those  of  St.  Peter,  namely,  before 
his  entrance  into  the  Mamertine  prisons.  On  first  arriving  in 
the  Eternal  City,  St.  Paul  remained  for  two  years  unmolested. 
During  that  period  he  resided  in  a  house  situated  where  now 
stands  the  church  of  Santa  Maria,  in  Via  Lata,  next  door  to  the 
sumptuous  palace  of  the  Dorias.  .  .  .  After  the  imprisonment 
of  St.  Paul,  and  his  separation  from  St.  Peter,  he  was  led  out 
about  three  miles  from  Rome — on  the  Ostian  Way — to  a 
desolate  place  in  the  Campagna,  where  he  was  beheaded. — 
Mrs.  Elliot. 


354  THE  BOOK   OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 


The  Pyramid  of  Caius  Cestius 

When  I  am  inclined  to  be  serious,  I  love  to  wander  up  and 
down  before  the  tomb  of  Caius  Cestius.  The  Protestant 
burial-ground  ^  is  there ;  and  most  of  the  little  monuments 
are  erected  to  the  young  ;  young  men  of  promise,  cut  off  when 
on  their  travels,  full  of  enthusiasm,  full  of  enjoyment ;  brides, 
in  the  bloom  of  their  beauty,  on  their  first  journey  ;  or  children 
borne  from  home  in  search  of  health.  This  stone  was  placed 
by  his  fellow-travellers,  young  as  himself,  who  will  return  to 
the  house  of  his  parents  without  him  ;  that,  by  a  husband  or  a 
father,  now  in  his  native  country.  His  heart  is  buried  in  that 
grave. 

It  is  a  quiet  and  sheltered  nook,  covered  in  the  winter 
with  violets  ;  and  the  Pyramid,  that  overshadows  it,  gives  it  a 
classical  and  singularly  solemn  air.  You  feel  an  interest  there, 
a  sympathy  you  were  not  prepared  for.  You  are  yourself  in  a 
foreign  land  ;  and  they  are  for  the  most  part  your  countrymen. 
They  call  upon  you  in  your  mother-tongue — in  English — in 
words  unknown  to  a  native,  known  only  to  yourself :  and  the 
tomb  of  Cestius,  that  old  majestic  pile,  has  this  also  in 
common  with  them.  It  is  itself  a  stranger,  among  strangers. 
It  has  stood  there  till  the  language  spoken  round  about  it  has 
changed ;  and  the  shepherd,  born  at  the  foot,  can  read  its 
inscription  no  longer. — Rogers. 

^  "The  English  burying-place,"  wrote  Shelley,  of  the  spot  where  his 
ashes  were  to  lie,  "  is  a  green  slope  near  the  walls,  under  the  pyramidal 
tomb  of  Cestius,  and  is,  I  think,  the  most  beautiful  and  solemn  cemetery  I 
ever  beheld.  To  see  the  sun  shining  on  its  bright  grass,  fresh,  when  we 
first  visited  it,  with  the  autumnal  dews,  and  hear  the  whispering  of  the 
wind  among  the  leaves  of  the  trees  which  have  overgrown  the  tomb  of 
Cestius,  and  the  soil  which  is  stirring  in  the  sun-warm  earth,  and  to  mark 
the  tombs,  mostly  of  women  and  young  people  who  were  buried  there, 
one  might,  if  one  were  to  die,  desire  the  sleep  they  seem  to  sleep.  Such 
is  the  human  mind,  and  so  it  peoples  with  its  wishes  vacancy  and  oblivion." 
The  modest  grave  of  Keats  (with  that  of  the  faithful  Severn  by  it)  is  in 
the  larger  cemetery  by  a  trench.  Shelley's  memorial  is  in  the  smaller 
cemetery  with  a  wall  dividing  it  from  the  pyramid.  There  are  cypress 
trees,  and  roses  grow  near  the  keeper's  lodge.  A  heavy  odour  of  mortality 
makes  the  place  dangerous  except  for  the  briefest  visit. 


ROME  355 


THE    CATACOMBS 

An  Early  Account 

The  Catacombs  .  .  .  running  many  miles  under  ground, 
made  anciently  a  Christian  Rome  under  the  Heathen.  There 
were  divers  of  these  catacombs  in  the  primitive  times,  and 
they  were  called  diversely :  Arenaria,  Crypts,  ArCcX,  Concilia 
Martyrum,  Poliandria,  but  most  frequently  Cemeteria,  that  is, 
dormitaria,  because  here  reposed  the  bodies  of  the  holy 
Martyrs  and  Saints  qui  obdormiverunt  in  domino.  But  the 
greatest  of  all  these  coemeterice  was  this  of  Calixtus.  In  these 
catacombs  during  the  persecutions  raised  against  the  Christians 
by  ten  heathen  emperors,  the  faithful  believers,  together  with 
their  popes  and  pastors,  used  privately^  to  meet  to  exercise 
their  religion,  and  steal  their  devotions  ;  that  is,  to  hear  mass 
in  little  round  chapels  painted  overhead  poorly  ;  minister  the 
sacraments  ;  bury  the  dead  martyrs  and  confessors  in  the  walls 
of  the  long  alleys,  preach,  hold  conferences ;  and  even  cele- 
brate councils  too  sometimes.  I  descended  several  times  into 
several  parts  of  the  catacombs  with  a  good  experienced  guide 
(which  you  must  be  sure  of)  and  with  wax  lights  (torches 
being  too  stifling)  and  wandered  in  them  up  and  down  with 
extraordinary  satisfaction  of  mind.  The  streets  underground 
are  cut  out  with  men's  hands  and  mattocks.  They  are  as 
high  as  a  man,  for  the  most  part,  and  no  broader  than  for  two 
men  to  meet.  All  the  way  long,  the  sides  of  these  alleys  are 
full  of  holes,  as  long  as  a  man,  and  sometimes  there  are  three 
rows,  one  over  another,  in  which  they  buried  their  martyrs  and 
confessors  :  and  that  posterity  might  afterwards  know  which 
were  martyrs,  which  confessors,  they  engraved  upon  the  stone 
which  mured  them  up,  or  upon  one  of  the  bricks,  a  palm 
branch  in  sign  of  a  martyr,  and  a  Fro  Christo  in  cyphers  for 
a  confessor.  It  is  recorded  that  during  the  foresaid  persecu- 
tions,2  a  hundred  and   seventy-four  thousand   martyrs   were 

^  Recent  opinion  has  modified  this,  if  the  word  is  used  in  the  sense  of 
absolute  secrecy, 

2  The  diminution  of  the  number  of  the  martyrs  by  Gibbon  is  perhaps 
no  more  accurate  than  the  excessive  estimate  of  this  account.  Dr.  Arnold 
(of  Rugby)  in  describing  S.  Stefano  Rotondo  on  the  Coelian,  with  its  series 
of  pictures  of  the  persecutions,  observes  :  ' '  Divide  the  sum  total  of  reported 
martyrs  by  twenty — by  fifty  if  you  will — but  after  all  you  have  a  number 
of  persons  of  all  ages  and  sexes  suffering  cruel  torments  for  conscience' 
sake  and  for  Christ's." 


356  THE  BOOK   OF   ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

buried  here  in  this  cemetery  of  Calixtus  :  among  whom  were 
nineteen  popes  martyrs.  Hence  these  catacombs  have  always 
been  esteemed  as  a  place  of  great  devotion,  and  much  fre- 
quented by  devout  persons.  The  words  over  the  door,  as  you 
descend  into  them  from  the  church  of  S.  Sebastian,  tell  you, 
how  S.  Jerome  confesseth  that  he  used  every  Sunday  and 
holiday  during  his  stay  in  Rome,  to  go  to  these  catacombs. 
And  a  picture  hung  over  the  same  door  sheweth  how  S.  Philip 
Neri  used  to  frequent  these  holy  places  in  the  night. — Lassels. 

De  Rossi  is  at  the  present  time  the  most  distinguished 
antiquarian  of  Rome,  because  he  two  years  ago  discovered  the 
Christian  Catacomb  of  the  first  century,  which  was  unknown, 
or  had  been  forgotten,  ever  since  the  fifth  century ;  and  he 
has  arrived  at  this  discovery  by  having,  in  the  first  place,  dis- 
covered the  so-called  Calixti  Catacomb,  with  the  graves  of 
Fabianus,  and  Saint  Cecilia  and  many  other  of  the  ancient 
martyrs.  This  last-mentioned  catacomb,  of  which  much  is 
said  in  the  writings  of  the  oldest  pilgrims  of  the  sixth  and 
seventh  centuries,  has  been  considered  in  latter  times  to  exist 
in  a  totally  different  place  to  that  in  which  De  Rossi  found  it. 
New  and  very  careful  examinations  in  the  district  of  the  church 
of  San  Sebastiano  led  to  his  discovering  that  a  cow-house,  in 
a  vineyard,  contained  a  Christian  basilica  of  the  oldest  date. 
Broken  pieces  of  marble  with  burial  inscriptions,  which  were 
found  under  the  stones  and  rubbish,  led  to  the  supposition  in 
his  mind  that  the  actual  CaHxti  Catacomb  would  be  found 
under  his  church.  He  communicated  his  discovery  and  his 
suppositions  to  the  Pope,  Pio  Nono,  who  encouraged  him,  and 
furnished  him  with  means  to  purchase  the  cow-house  and  vine- 
yard, and  to  undertake  the  excavation.  The  results  of  all  this 
were  rich  beyond  description.  The  actual  Calixti  Catacomb, 
with  the  martyrs'  graves,  was  not  only  discovered,  the  descent 
being  found  near  the  little  and  extremely  ancient  church, 
but  in  connection  therewith  the  very  most  ancient  catacomb 
where  the  Christians  during  the  first  and  second  centuries  con- 
gregated, as  well  as  interred  their  dead.  The  entrance  to  this 
had  been  again  walled  up,  and,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  not 
opened  until  by  De  Rossi. 

It  was  with  a  beaming  countenance  that  the  fortunate 
discoverer  led  us  to  those  subterranean  chambers,  by  the  very 
way  which  the  most  ancient  pilgrims  had  descended.  This 
was  a  handsome  convenient  flight  of  while  marble  steps.  We 
went  down,  each  of  us  bearing  a  lighted  candle — two  guides 


ROME  357 

going  in  advance  with  torches.  We  reached  the  Catacomb  of 
Cahxtus.  The  chapels,  the  graves,  and  the  passages  are  in 
many  places  ornamented  with  marble  columns,  bas-reliefs  and 
paintings.  The  number  and  character  of  the  tombs  show  that 
this  catacomb  belonged,  after  the  fourth  century,  to  a  poor 
and  insignificant  mass  of  people  no  longer,  but  to  one  suffi- 
ciently powerful  to  make  itself  regarded  and  feared  by  a 
politically  wise  prince  and  ruler.  It  had,  in  fact,  taken  posses- 
sion of  the  realm,  in  order  to  retain  which,  Constantine,  called 
the  Great,  was  obliged  to  adopt,  or  at  least  protect,  its 
doctrines.  The  most  interesting  of  the  mausoleums  was  that 
in  which  the  most  ancient  Bishops  of  Rome,  Popes  Sixtus, 
Fabianus,  and  many  other  martyrs,  were  buried.  The  inscrip- 
tions on  the  marble  tablets  above  the  niches  in  the  walls,  which 
contain  the  dead,  are  perfectly  well  preserved,  but  consist 
merely  of  the  names  of  the  dead  and  the  short  addition, 
^^  Martyr."  One  inscription  in  this  chamber,  not  upon  a 
tomb,  by  Archbishop  Damas,  of  the  fourth  century,  excellently 
restored  by  De  Rossi,  praises  "  the  men  and  women  who  are 
here  interred  because  they  died  for  their  faith."  "  In  this 
chamber,"adds  the  pious  bishop,  "should  I,  Damas,  have  wished 
to  sleep,  but  I  would  not  disturb  the  repose  of  the  martyrs  ! " 

In  the  mausoleum  of  Saint  Cecilia  you  see  the  empty  space 
of  the  sarcophagus,  which  is  now  to  be  found  in  the  church  of 
Santa  Cecilia  di  Trastevere,  together  with  a  painting  repre- 
senting her  with  a  glory  and  uplifted  supplicating  hands. 
Other  paintings  also  of  Christian  martyrs  are  here ;  amongst 
these,  one  of  the  bishop  who  interred  Saint  Cecilia,  and  whose 
name,  Urbanus,  may  be  easily  spelled  out  in  letters  which 
surround  his  head  like  a  frame.  The  pictures  are  all  in  the 
stiff  Byzantine  style,  with  rich  costumes  and  gilding.  The 
countenances  are  nothing  less  than  beautiful.  This  mausoleum, 
like  the  one  we  had  just  left,  is  spacious  and  beautifully  pro- 
portioned. Smoke  on  the  walls,  as  of  a  lamp,  shows  that 
people  had  there  watched  and  prayed.  The  whole  of  this 
Catacomb  is  lighted  by  circular  openings,  which  admit  light 
and  air  into  the  subterranean  burial-place.  After  about  an 
hour's  wandering  along  innumerable  passages,  through  many 
chapels  resembling  the  last  mentioned,  we  arrived  at  the 
Catacomb  of  the  first  century.  Before  we  descended  into 
it,  De  Rossi  called  our  attention  to  an  inscription,  which  is 
found  often  repeated  by  the  same  hand,  upon  the  walls  all  the 
way  from  the  mausoleums  in  the  Catacomb  of  St.  Calixtus,  to 


358  THE  BOOK   OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

the  entrance  into  this  of  the  earlier  Christians.  A  pilgrim  who 
had  wandered  through  these  chambers  whilst  he  prayed  for  a 
friend,  and  he  has  inscribed  his  prayer  on  the  walls  in  these 
words  : — 

"  Sophronia  !  Live  thou  in  God  I  " 

He  appears  then  to  have  paused  at  the  door  of  the  oldest 
catacomb,  and  the  prayer  now  expresses  itself  in  words  which 
show  that  he  knew  his  prayer  was  heard.  Here,  in  Roman 
letters,  one  can  plainly  decipher — "  Sophronia  dulcis,  vive  in 
Deo  /  Til  vivis  in  Deo  /"  (Sophronia,  sweet  one,  live  in  God  ! 
Thou  dost  live  in  God  !)  The  letters  are  dark  red,  as  if 
written  in  blood.  Who  can  avoid  thinking  here—"  Love  is 
stronger  than  death  ?  " 

We  entered  the  Catacomb  of  the  first  century.  Here  there 
is  no  splendour,  no  marble  pillars,  or  pictures ;  narrow  streets 
and  passages,  in  which  are  niches,  low  openings  or  stages  in 
the  walls,  three  stories  high,  and  bones,  chalk-like  dust,  lying 
everywhere.  Here,  no  light,  no  atmosphere  is  admitted  from 
without,  but  still  the  air  is  as  wonderfully  good,  warm,  and 
pure  as  if  it  were  that  of  a  tranquil  sleeping-chamber,  where  it 
is  good  to  rest.  Here  had  a  poor  and  persecuted  people 
sought  shelter  for  their  dead,  as  well  as  for  their  preaching  of 
the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  Neither  yet  were  the  monuments 
of  the  earliest  Christians  here  deficient  in  culture  or  art. 
Many  fresco  paintings  in  the  mausoleums  exhibited  both  these, 
and  they  far  excelled  in  style  and  artistic  value  the  Byzantine 
pictures  in  the  catacombs  of  the  fourth  century.  At  the  end 
of  one  little  chapel  was  a  well-preserved  humorous  painting, 
representing  a  shepherd  who  preaches  to  his  flock.  Some 
listen  attentively,  others  wander  away  from  him,  others  feed 
on  the  meadow,  one  ram  bleats  toward  the  preacher,  with  a 
horrible  grimace.  In  the  meantime,  you  see  that  a  heavy 
shower  of  rain  is  falling.  Another  painting,  also  good  and 
well-preserved,  represents  Moses,  who  with  his  staff,  opens  the 
bosom  of  the  rock,  and  the  water  gushes  forth.  Here  you  see 
the  place  where  the  altar  has  stood ;  you  see  the  smoke  on  the 
walls,  and  the  smoke  of  the  lamp  on  the  ceiling.  The 
symbols  of  the  Holy  Communion  are  represented  in  more 
than  one  of  the  chambers,  as  a  glass  with  wine,  above  which 
is  laid  a  fish,  and  also  a  plate  with  the  holy  wafer.  I  ap- 
proached my  candle  to  the  wine  in  the  glass ;  it  shone  as  red 
and  as  fresh  as  if  it  had  been  painted  yesterday,  and  not  nearly 
two  thousand  years  ago. — Fredcrika  Bremer. 


ROME  359 


PERSONAL  ACCOUNTS 
Rome  in  the  Sixteenth  Century 

.  .  .  On  the  2nd  of  December  we  hired  apartments  at  the 
house  of  a  Spaniard,  opposite  the  church  of  Santa  Lucia  della 
Tinta.  We  were  here  provided  with  three  handsome  bed-rooms, 
a  dining-room,  closet,  stable  and  kitchen,  for  twenty  crowns  a 
month,  for  which  sum  the  landlord  agreed  to  include  a  cook, 
and  fire  for  the  kitchen.  The  apartments  at  Rome  are 
generally  furnished  better  than  those  at  Paris,  the  people  here 
having  great  quantities  of  gilt  leather,  with  which  the  higher 
class  of  rooms  are  lined.  For  the  same  price  we  gave  for 
these  lodgings,  we  might  have  had  some  at  the  Golden  Vase, 
close  by,  hung  with  cloth  of  gold  and  silk,  quite  like  a  royal 
palace,  but,  besides  that  the  rooms  here  were  less  independent 
of  one  another  than  those  we  took,  M.  de  Montaigne  was  of 
opinion  that  all  this  magnificence  was  not  only  quite  super- 
fluous, but  that  we  should  find  it  very  troublesome,  with  refer- 
ence to  taking  care  of  the  furniture,  for  there  was  not  a  bed  in 
the  place  which  was  not  of  the  estimated  value  of  four  or  five 
hundred  crowns.  At  our  lodgings  we  bargained  for  a  supply 
of  linen — much  the  same  as  in  France — a  necessary  precaution 
in  a  place  where  they  are  somewhat  chary  of  this  article. 

M.  de  Montaigne  was  annoyed  at  finding  so  many  French- 
men here ;  he  hardly  met  a  person  in  the  street  who  did  not 
salute  him  in  his  own  language.  He  was  very  much  struck 
with  the  sight  of  so  crowded  a  court,  so  peopled  with  prelates 
and  churchmen ;  it  appeared  to  him  that  there  were  more  rich 
men  and  more  rich  equipages  here,  by  far,  than  in  any  other 
court  he  had  ever  been  at.  He  said  that  the  appearance  of 
the  streets,  especially  from  the  number  of  people  thronging 
them,  reminded  him  more  of  Paris  than  any  town  he  had  ever 
seen.  The  modern  city  lies  along  the  river  Tiber,  on  both 
sides.  The  hilly  quarter,  where  the  ancient  town  stood,  and 
to  which  he  daily  made  visits,  is  cut  up  with  the  gardens  of 
the  cardinals,  and  the  grounds  attached  to  various  churches 
and  private  houses.  He  judged,  from  manifest  appearances, 
and  from  the  height  of  the  ruins,  that  the  form  of  the  hills  and 
their  slopes  had  altogether  changed  from  what  it  was  in  the 
old  time,  and  he  felt  certain  that  in  several  places  the  modern 
Romans  walked  on  the  top  of  the  houses  of  their  ancestors. 


36o  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

It  is  easy  to  calculate  from  the  Arch  of  Severus,  that  we  are 
now-a-days  more  than  two  pikes'  length  above  the  ancient 
roofs  ;  and  in  point  of  fact  almost  everywhere  you  see  beneath 
your  feet  the  tops  of  ancient  walls  which  the  rain  and  the 
coaches  have  laid  bare.  .  .  . 


Ceremonies  and  Pageants 

On  Christmas-day  we  went  to  hear  mass  performed  by 
the  pope  at  St.  Peter's,  where  he  got  a  place,  whence  he 
could  see  all  the  ceremonies  at  his  ease.  There  are  several 
special  forms  observed  on  these  occasions  ;  first,  the  gospel 
and  the  epistle  are  said  in  Latin,  and  then  in  Greek,  as  is  also 
done  on  Easter  Sunday  and  St.  Peter's  day.  The  pope  then 
administered  the  sacrament  to  a  number  of  persons,  associating 
with  him  in  this  service  the  Cardinals  Farnese,  Medici,  Caraffa 
and  Gonzaga.  They  use  a  certain  instrument  for  this  purpose, 
from  which  they  drink  from  the  chalice,  in  order  to  provide 
against  poison.  Monsieur  de  Montaigne  was  somewhat  sur- 
prised to  remark  at  this  and  other  masses  which  he  attended, 
the  pope,  the  cardinals  and  other  prelates  were  seated  during 
the  whole  mass,  with  their  caps  on,  talking  and  chatting 
together.  These  ceremonies  appeared  to  him  altogether  to 
partake  more  of  magnificence  than  devotion.  .  .  . 

On  the  3rd  January,  1581,  the  pope  rode  in  procession 
before  our  house.  Before  him  rode  about  two  hundred  per- 
sons, belonging  to  the  court,  churchmen  and  laymen.  At  his 
side  rode  the  Cardinal  de  Medici,  with  whom  he  was  going  to 
dine,  and  who  was  conversing  with  him ;  his  eminence  was 
uncovered.  The  pope,  who  was  dressed  in  his  usual  costume 
of  red  cap,  white  robes,  and  red  velvet  hood,  was  mounted  on 
a  white  palfrey,  the  harness  of  which  was  red  velvet,  with  gold 
fringe  and  gold  lace-work.  He  gets  on  his  horse  without 
assistance,  though  he  is  in  his  eighty-first  year.  Every  fifteen 
yards  or  so,  he  stops  and  gives  his  benediction  to  the  assembled 
people.  After  him  came  three  cardinals,  and  then  about  a 
hundred  men-at-arms,  lance  on  thigh  and  armed  at  all  points, 
except  the  head  ;  there  was  another  palfrey,  of  the  same  colour 
and  with  the  same  harness  as  he  rode,  following  him,  together 
with  a  mule,  a  handsome  white  charger,  a  litter  and  two  grooms, 
who  carried  portmanteaus  at  their  saddle-bow.  .  .  . 

The  carnival  at  Rome  this  year  was,  by  the  pope's  per- 
mission, more  unrestricted  than  has  been  known  for  several 


ROME  361 

years  past,  but  it  did  not  appear  to  us  any  great  thing.  Along 
the  Corso,  which  is  one  of  the  largest  streets  here,  and  which 
takes  its  name  from  the  circumstance,  they  have  races,  some- 
times between  four  or  five  children,  sometimes  between  Jews, 
sometimes  between  old  men  stripped  naked,  who  run  the  whole 
length  of  the  street.  The  only  amusing  thing  is  to  see  them 
run  past  the  place  where  you  are.  They  have  races  also  with 
horses,  which  are  ridden  by  little  boys,  who  urge  them  on  with 
incessant  whipping  ;  and  there  are  ass-races,  and  exhibitions  of 
buffaloes,  which  are  driven  along  at  full  speed  by  men  on 
horseback,  armed  with  long  goads.  There  is  a  prize  assigned 
for  each  race,  which  they  call  elpalo  ;  ^  it  consists  generally  of 
a  piece  of  velvet  or  cloth.  In  one  part  of  the  street,  where 
there  is  more  room  for  the  ladies  to  look  on,  the  gentlemen 
run  at  the  quintain,  mounted  upon  splendid  horses,  in  the 
management  of  which  they  exhibit  much  grace ;  for  there  is 
nothing  in  which  the  nobility  here  more  excel  than  in  equestrian 
exercises.  The  scaffolding  which  M.  de.  Montaigne  had  set 
up  for  himself  and  his  friends  cost  them  three  crowns  ;  but  then 
it  was  situated  in  one  of  the  best  parts  of  the  street.^ 

The  Demoniac 

On  the  1 6th  of  February,  as  I  was  returning  from  a  walk,  I 
saw  in  a  small  chapel  a  priest  in  his  robes,  busied  in  curing  a 
demoniac ;  the  patient  seemed  a  man  overwhelmed,  and  as  it 
were,  half  dead  with  melancholy.  They  were  holding  him  on 
his  knees  before  the  altar,  with  some  cloth  or  other  round  his 
neck,  by  which  he  was  secured.  The  priest  first  read  out  of 
his  breviary  a  vast  number  of  prayers  and  exorcisms,  com- 
manding the  devil  to  quit  that  afflicted  body.  Then  speaking 
to  the  patient,  addressing  first  himself  and  then  the  devil 
which  possessed  him,  he  repeated  his  commands  to  the  devil 
to  withdraw,  and  attack  the  poor  patient  with  his  fists  and  spat 
on  his  face  by  way  of  assailing  the  demon.  The  demoniac 
every  now  and  then  returned  some  unmeaning  answer  to  the 
priest's  questions,  replying,  sometimes  for  himself,  to  explain 
what  were  the  symptoms  of  the  malady,  and  sometimes  for  the 
demon,  to  express  how  the  said  devil  feared  God,  and  how  he 

^  Montaigne's  Italian  is  generally  copied  from  what  he  has  heard 
rather  than  read. 

"^  The  remainder  of  Montaigne's  journal  is  written  without  the  aid  of 
an  amanuensis. 


362  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

dreaded  the  exorcisms  which  were  being  denounced  against 
him. 

After  this  had  gone  on  for  some  time,  the  priest,  as  a  last 
effort,  went  to  the  altar,  and  taking  the  pyx,  which  held  the 
Corpus  Domini,  in  his  left  hand,  and  a  lighted  taper  in  the 
other,  which  he  held  down  so  that  it  might  burn  away,  he  said 
several  prayers  and  at  the  end  of  them  pronounced  a  fierce 
anathema  against  the  devil,  with  as  loud  and  authoritative  a 
voice  as  he  could  assume.  When  the  first  taper  was  burnt 
down  nearly  to  his  fingers,  he  took  a  second  and  afterwards 
a  third.  Then  he  replaced  the  pyx,  and  came  back  to  the 
patient,  whom,  after  addressing  a  few  words  to  him  simply  as 
a  man,  he  caused  to  be  untied,  and  directed  his  friends  to  take 
him  home.  .  .  .  The  man  .  .  .  did  nothing  but  grind  his 
teeth  and  make  faces  when  they  presented  the  Corpus  Domini 
to  him  ;  every  now  and  then  he  muttered  si  fata  volent,  for  he 
was  a  notary  and  knew  a  little  Latin.  .  .  . 

On  Palm-Sunday,  at  vespers,  I  saw  in  one  of  the  churches, 
a  boy,  seated  on  a  chair  at  the  side  of  the  altar,  clothed  in  a 
large  robe  of  new  blue  taffeta,  with  a  crown  of  olive  round  his 
head,  and  holding  in  his  hand  a  lighted  white  wax  taper.  It 
was  a  lad  of  about  fifteen,  who  had  that  day,  by  the  pope's 
order,  been  liberated  from  the  prison,  to  which  he  had  been 
committed  for  killing  another  boy  of  his  own  age.  .  .  . 

Pope  and  People 

On  Maundy-Thursday,  in  the  morning,  the  pope,  in  full 
pontificals,  placed  himself  in  the  first  portico  of  St.  Peter's,  on 
the  second  flight,  with  the  cardinals  round  him,  and  holding  a 
torch  in  his  hand.  A  canon  of  St.  Peter's,  who  stood  on  one 
side,  then  read  at  the  pitch  of  his  voice  a  bull  in  the  Latin 
language,  excommunicating  an  infinite  variety  of  people  and 
among  others  the  Huguenots,  by  that  term,  and  all  the 
princes  who  detained  any  of  the  estates  belonging  to  that 
church;  at  which  last  article,  the  Cardinals  de  Medici  and 
Caraffa,  who  stood  close  by  the  pope,  laughed  heartily.  The 
reading  of  this  anathema  takes  up  a  full  hour  and  a  half;  for 
every  article  that  the  clerk  reads  in  Latin,  the  Cardinal  Gonzaga, 
who  stands  on  the  other  side  with  his  hat  off,  repeats  in  Italian. 
When  the  excommunication  is  finished,  the  pope  throws  the 
lighted  torch  down  among  the  people ;  and  whether  in  jest  or 
otherwise,  the  Carinal  Gonzaga  threw  another ;  for  there  were 


ROME  363 

three  of  them  Ughted.  Hereupon  ensues  a  tremendous 
struggle  among  the  people  below,  to  get  even  the  smallest 
piece  of  this  torch ;  and  not  a  few  hard  blows  with  stick  and 
fist  are  given  and  returned  in  the  contest.  While  the  curse  is 
read,  a  large  piece  of  black  taffeta  hangs  over  the  rails  of  the 
portico  before  the  pope ;  and  when  the  reading  is  over,  they 
take  up  this  black  taffeta,  and  exhibit  one  of  another  colour 
under  it ;  and  the  pope  then  pronounces  his  public  blessing  on 
all  the  faithful  members  of  the  church. 

This  same  day,  they  shew  the  Veronica,^  the  Vera  Effigies, 
the  representation  of  a  face,  worked  in  sombre  colours,  and 
enclosed  in  a  frame  like  a  large  mirror ;  this  is  shewn  to  the 
people,  with  much  ceremony,  from  the  top  of  a  pulpit,  about 
five  or  six  paces  wide.  The  priest  who  holds  it,  has  his  hands 
covered  with  red  gloves,  and  there  are  two  or  three  other 
priests  assisting  him.  There  is  nothing  regarded  with  so 
much  reverence  as  this ;  the  people  prostrate  themselves  on 
the  earth  before  it,  most  of  them  with  tears  rolling  down  their 
cheeks,  and  all  uttering  cries  of  commiseration.  A  woman 
who  was  present,  and  who,  they  said,  was  a  demoniac,  got  into 
a  tremendous  fury  on  seeing  this  effigy,  yelling  and  throwing 
herself  into  infinite  contortions.  The  priests  take  the  effigy 
round  the  pulpit,  and  at  every  step  or  two,  present  it  to  the 
people  who  are  standing  in  that  particular  direction,  and  on 
each  of  these  occasions,  the  crowd  raises  a  huge  cry.  They 
also  shew  at  the  same  time  and  with  the  same  ceremonies,  the 
head  of  the  lance,  enclosed  in  a  crystal  bottle.  This  exhibi- 
tion takes  place  several  times  during  the  day,  and  the 
assemblage  of  people  is  so  vast,  that  outside  the  church,  so 
far  as  the  eye  can  reach  down  the  streets,  you  can  see  nothing 
but  the  heads  of  men  and  women,  so  close  together  that  it 
seems  as  though  you  could  walk  upon  them.  'Tis  a  truly 
papal  court ;  the  splendour  and  the  principal  grandeur  of  the 
court  of  Rome  consists  in  these  devotional  exhibitions.  And 
indeed  it  is  a  very  striking  sight  to  witness,  on  these  occasions, 
the  infinite  religious  fervour  of  this  people.   .  .  . 

On  Low  Sunday,  I  saw  the  ceremony  of  the  Virgins'  alms.^ 

^  The  formerly  accepted  derivation  from  ve7-a,  true,  and  ikon,  an  image, 
meant  an  impossible  mixture  of  Latin  and  Greek.  St.  Veronica  was  sup- 
posed to  have  wiped  the  Saviour's  face  on  the  way  to  Calvary  ;  and  the 
name  Veronica  is  the  same  as  that  of  Berenice,  the  woman  cured  of  an  issue 
of  the  blood. 

^  We  transpose  this  passage  which  in  the  original  follows  that  concern- 
ing the  Flagellants. 


364  THE  BOOK   OF  ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

The  pope,  on  this  occasion,  besides  his  usual  train,  has 
twenty-five  horses  led  before  him,  richly  caparisoned  in  cloth 
of  gold,  and  ten  or  twelve  mules  decorated  with  crimson  vel- 
vet ;  each  of  these  animals  being  led  by  one  of  the  pope's 
lackeys  on  foot.  His  own  litter  was  also  covered  with  crimson 
velvet.  He  was  immediately  preceded  by  four  men  on  horse- 
back, each  bearing,  at  the  end  of  a  truncheon,  also  covered 
with  red  velvet,  and  profusely  ornamented  with  gold,  a  red 
hat :  he  himself  rode  on  a  mule,  as  did  the  cardinals  who 
followed  him,  all  apparelled  in  their  robes  of  state  :  the  tails  of 
which  were  fastened  with  tags  to  their  mule's  bridle. 

The  virgins  were  a  hundred  and  seven  in  number,  and 
each  was  accompanied  by  an  elderly  female  relation.  After 
mass,  they  left  the  church,  and  forming  in  procession  filed 
off.  As  they  left  the  church  of  Minerva,  where  this  ceremony 
takes  place,  each  kisses  the  pope's  feet,  and  he,  after  blessing 
them,  gives  to  each  with  his  own  hand,  a  purse  of  white 
damask,  containing  an  order  upon  his  banker  for  the  amount 
of  her  dowry.  It  is  understood  that  all  the  girls  who  present 
themselves  are  about  to  be  married,  and  they  come  here  for 
their  marriage  dowry,  which  is  thirty-five  crowns  a  head,  be- 
sides a  white  dress,  which  each  has  presented  to  her  on  the 
occasion  and  which  is  worth  five  crowns  more.  Their  faces 
are  covered  with  white  linen  veils,  which  have  only  an  opening 
for  them  to  see  out  at. 

Procession  of  Flagellants 

In  Rome  there  are  more  than  a  hundred  religious  societies, 
with  one  or  other  of  which  almost  every  person  of  quality  is 
connected.  Some  of  these  establishments  are  appropriated  to 
foreigners.  Our  own  kings  belong  to  the  Society  of  the  Gon- 
sanon.  All  these  private  fraternities  perform  various  religious 
ceremonies,  though  for  the  most  part  only  in  Lent.  On  this 
particular  occasion,  they  all  walk  in  procession,  clothed  in 
linen  robes,  each  company  having  a  different  colour,  some 
black,  some  white,  some  red,  some  blue,  some  green,  and  so 
on ;  they  nearly  all  cover  their  faces  with  their  cowls.  The 
most  impressive  sight  I  ever  saw,  here  or  elsewhere,  was  the 
incredible  number  of  people  who  thronged  every  square  and 
street,  all  taking  an  earnest  part  in  the  devotions  of  the  day. 
They  were  flocking  up  towards  St.  Peter's  all  day  long,  and 
on  the  approach  of  night  the  whole  city  seemed  in  flames; 


ROME  365 

for  every  man  who  took  part  in  the  procession  of  each  re- 
ligious community,  as  it  marched  up  in  its  order  towards  the 
church,  bore  a  hghted  flambeau,  ahnost  universally  of  white 
wax.  I  am  persuaded,  that  there  passed  before  me  not  fewer 
than  twelve  thousand  of  these  torches,  at  the  very  least,  for, 
from  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  till  midnight,  the  street  was 
constantly  full  of  this  moving  pageantry,  marshalled  in  such 
excellent  order,  with  everything  so  well-timed,  that  though  the 
entire  procession,  as  I  have  said,  was  composed  of  a  great 
number  of  different  societies,  coming  from  different  parts,  yet 
not  for  one  moment  did  I  observe  any  stoppage,  or  gap,  or 
interruption. 

Each  company  was  attended  by  a  band  of  music,  and 
chaunted  sacred  songs  as  they  went  along.  Between  the  ranks 
walked  a  file  of  penitents,  who  every  other  minute  whipped 
themselves  with  cords ;  there  were  five  hundred  of  these  at 
least,  whose  backs  were  torn  and  bleeding  in  a  frightful  manner. 
This  part  of  the  exhibition  is  a  mystery  I  have  not  yet  been 
able  to  make  out ;  they  are  unquestionably  most  terribly 
mangled  and  wounded,  yet,  from  the  tranquillity  of  their 
countenances,  the  steadiness  of  their  motion  and  of  their 
tongue  (for  I  heard  several  of  them  speaking)  you  would  have 
formed  no  idea  they  were  engaged  in  a  serious  occupation,  to 
say  nothing  of  a  very  painful  one,  and  yet  many  of  them  were 
lads  of  but  twelve  or  thirteen  years  old.  As  one  of  them,  a 
mere  child,  with  an  exceedingly  agreeable  and  unmoved 
countenance,  was  passing  just  close  to  where  I  stood,  a  young 
woman  near  me  uttered  an  exclamation  of  pity  at  the  wounds 
he  had  inflicted  on  himself,  on  which  he  turned  round  and 
said  with  a  laugh  :  "  Basta,  disse  che  fo  questo  per  li  lui  pecatti, 
non  per  li  mieV  (Pshaw  :  tell  her  I'm  not  doing  this  for  my 
own  sins,  but  for  hers).  Not  only  do  they  exhibit  no  appear- 
ance of  pain,  nor  of  being  reluctant  thus  to  mangle  themselves, 
but  on  the  contrary,  they  seem  to  delight  in  it ;  or,  at  all 
events,  they  treat  it  with  such  indifference  that  you  hear  them 
chatting  together  about  other  matters,  laughing,  running,  jump- 
ing and  joining  in  the  shouts  of  the  rest  of  the  crowd,  as  if 
nothing  ailed  them.  At  certain  distances,  there  are  men 
walking  with  them,  and  carrying  wine  which  they  every  now 
and  then  present  to  the  penitents  ;  some  of  whom  take  a 
mouthful.  They  also  give  them  sugar-plums.  The  men  who 
carry  the  wine,  at  certain  intervals,  moisten  with  it  the  ends  of 
the  penitents'  whips  which  are  of  cord,  and   yet   so  clotted 


366  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

with  gore  that  they  require  to  be  wetted  before  they  can  be 
untwisted.  Sometimes  the  wine  is  applied  to  the  sufferer's 
wounds.  From  the  shoes  and  the  breeches  worn  by  these 
penitents,  it  is  easy  to  perceive  that  they  are  persons  quite  of 
the  lowest  class,  who,  at  all  events  the  greater  number  of 
them,  let  themselves  out  for  this  particular  service.  I  was 
told,  indeed,  that  the  shoulders  were  protected  by  some  flesh- 
coloured  covering,  and  that  the  appearance  of  the  blood  and 
wounds  was  artificial ;  but  I  was  near  enough  to  see  that  the 
cuts  and  wounds  were  quite  real,  and  I  am  sure  that  the  pain 
must  have  been  very  severe. — Montaigne. 

Rome  in  the  Seventeenth  Century 

I  came  to  Rome  on  the  4th  November  1644,  about  5  at 
night,  and  being  perplexed  for  a  convenient  lodging  wandered 
up  and  down  on  horseback,  till  at  last  one  conducted  us  to 
Mons.  Petit's,  a  P>enchman,  near  the  Piazza  Spagnola.  Here 
I  alighted,  and  having  bargained  with  my  host  for  20  crownes 
a  month  I  caused  a  good  fire  to  be  made  in  my  chamber  and 
went  to  bed,  being  so  very  wet.  The  next  morning  (for  I  was 
resolved  to  spend  no  time  idly  here)  I  got  acquainted  with 
several  persons  who  had  long  lived  in  Rome.  I  was  especially 
recommended  to  Father  John,  a  Benedictine  monk  and 
superior  of  his  Order  for  the  English  college  of  Douay,  a 
person  of  singular  learning,  religion  and  humanity  ;  also  to 
Mr.  Patrick  Carey,  an  Abbot,  brother  to  our  Lord  Falkland, 
a  witty  young  priest  who  afterwards  came  over  to  our  church  ; 
Dr.  Bacon  and  Dr.  Gibbs,  physicians  who  had  dependence  on 
Cardinal  Caponi,  the  latter  being  an  excellent  poet ;  Father 
Courtnee,  the  chief  of  the  Jesuits  in  the  English  college  ;  my 
lord  of  Somerset,  brother  to  the  Marquis  of  Worcester,  and 
some  others,  from  whom  I  received  instructions  as  to  how  to 
behave  in  town,  with  directions  to  masters  and  books.  .  .  . 

A  Papal  Procession 

There  was  the  solemne  and  greatest  ceremony  of  all  the 
Ecclesiastical  States,  viz.  the  procession  of  the  Pope  (Innocent 
X.)  to  St.  John  de  Lateran.  Standing  on  the  stepps  of  Ara 
Celi,  neere  the  Capitol,  I  saw  it  passe  in  this  manner : — First 
went  a  guard  of  Swissers  to  make  way,  and  divers  of  the  avant 
guard  of  horse  carrying  lances.       Next  follow'd   those   who 


ROME  367 

carried  the  robes  of  the  Cardinals,  two  and  two  ;  then  the 
Cardinals  Mace-bearers ;  the  Caudatari  on  mules ;  the 
Masters  of  their  Horse ;  the  Pope's  Barber,  Taylor,  Baker, 
Gardner,  and  other  domestic  ofificers,  all  on  horseback  in  rich 
liveries  ;  the  Squires  belonging  to  the  guard  ;  5  men  in  rich 
liveries  led  5  noble  Neapolitan  horses  white  as  snow  cover'd  to 
the  ground  with  trappings  richly  embroidered,  which  is  a 
service  paid  by  the  King  of  Spaine  for  the  kingdomes  of 
Naples  and  Sicily,  pretended  feudatorys  to  the  Pope  ;  3  mules 
of  exquisite  beauty  and  price,  trapp'd  in  crimson  velvet ;  3 
rich  litters  with  mules,  the  litters  empty  ;  the  Master  of  the 
Horse  alone,  with  his  Squires  ;  5  Trumpeters ;  the  Amerieri 
estra  muros  ;  the  Fiscale  and  Consistorial  Advocates  ;  Capel- 
lani,  Camerieri  de  honore,  Cubiculari  and  Chamberlaines, 
call'd  Secreti ;  4  other  Camerieri  with  4  capps  of  the  dignity 
Pontifical,  which  were  Cardinals'  hatts  carried  on  staffs  ;  4 
Trumpets  :  after  them  a  number  of  noble  Romans  and  gentle- 
men of  quality  very  rich,  followed  by  innumerable  Staffieri 
and  Pages  ;  the  Secretaries  of  the  Chancellaria,  Abbreviatori- 
Acoliti  in  their  long  robes  and  on  mules  ;  Auditori  di  Rota  ; 
the  Deane  of  the  Roti  and  Master  of  the  sacred  Palace  on 
mules,  with  grave  but  rich  foote  clothes,  and  in  flat  episcopal 
hatts  ;  then  went  more  of  the  Roman  and  other  Nobility  and 
Courtiers,  with  divers  Pages  in  most  rich  liveries  on  horse- 
back ;  14  Drums  belonging  to  the  Capitol;  the  Marshalls 
with  their  staves  ;  the  2  Sindics ;  the  Conservators  of  the  Citty 
in  robes  of  crimson  damask  ;  the  Knight  Gonfalonier  and  Prior 
of  the  R.  R.  in  velvet  tocques ;  6  of  his  holynesses  Mace- 
bearers  ;  then  the  Captaine  or  Governor  of  the  Castle  of  St. 
Angelo  upon  a  brave  prancer ;  the  Governor  of  the  Citty  ;  on 
both  sides  of  these  2  long  ranks  of  Swissers  ;  the  Masters  of 
the  Ceremonies  ;  the  Crosse-bearer  on  horseback,  with  two 
Priests  at  each  hand  on  foote ;  Pages,  Footmen,  and  Guards 
in  aboundance  ;  then  came  the  Pope  himselfe,  carried  in  a 
Utter  or  rather  open  chaire  of  crimson  velvet  richly  embrodred, 
and  borne  by  two  stately  mules ;  as  he  went  he  held  up  two 
fingers,  blessing  the  multitude  who  were  on  their  knees  or 
looking  out  of  their  windows  and  houses,  with  loud  viva's  and 
acclamations  of  felicity  to  their  new  Prince.  This  was  follow'd 
by  the  Master  of  his  Chamber,  Cupp-bearer,  Secretary,  and 
Physitian  ;  then  came  the  Cardinal  Bishops,  Cardinal  Priests, 
Cardinal  Deacons,  Patriarchs,  Archbishops,  and  Bishops,  all 
in  their  several  and   distinct  habits,  some  in  red,  others  in 


368  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

greene  flat  hatts  with  tassells,  all  on  gallant  mules  richly  trapp'd 
with  velvet  and  lead  by  their  servants  in  great  state  and  multi- 
tudes ;  then  came  the  Apostolical  Protonotari,  Auditor, 
Treasurer,  and  Referendaries ;  lastly,  the  Trumpets  of  the 
reare-guard,  2  Pages  of  Amies  in  helmets  with  feathers  and 
carrying  launces ;  2  Captaines ;  the  Pontifical  Standard  of 
the  Church  ;  the  two  Alfieri  or  Cornets  of  the  Pope's  Light 
Horse,  which  all  follow'd  in  armor  and  carrying  launces  ; 
which,  with  innumerable  rich  coaches,  litters,  and  people, 
made  up  the  procession.  What  they  did  at  St.  John  di 
Laterano  I  could  not  see  by  reason  of  the  prodigious  crowd  ; 
so  I  spent  most  of  the  day  in  viewing  the  two  triumphal  arches 
which  had  been  purposely  erected  a  few  days  before,  and  till 
now  covered ;  the  one  by  the  Duke  of  Parma  in  the  Foro 
Romano,  the  other  by  the  Jewes  in  the  Capitol,  with  flattering 
inscriptions.  They  were  of  excellent  architecture,  decorated 
with  statues  and  aboundance  of  ornaments  proper  for  the 
occasion,  since  they  were  but  temporary,  and  made  up  of 
boards,  cloath,  &c.  painted  and  fram'd  on  the  suddaine,  but  as 
to  outward  appearance  solid  and  very  stately.  The  night 
ended  with  fire-workes.  That  which  I  saw  was  that  which  was 
built  before  the  Spanish  Ambassadors  house  in  the  Piazza  del 
Trinita,  and  another  of  the  French.  The  first  appeared  to  be 
a  mighty  rock,  bearing  the  Pope's  arms,  a  dragon,  and  divers 
figures,  which  being  set  on  fire  by  one  who  flung  a  roquet  at  it, 
tooke  fire  immediately,  yet  preserving  the  figure  of  the  rock 
and  statues  a  very  long  time,  insomuch  as  it  was  deemed  ten 
thousand  reports  of  squibbs  and  crackers  spent  themselves  in 
order.  That  before  the  French  Ambassadors  Palace  was  a 
Diana  drawne  in  a  chariot  by  her  dogs,  with  abundance  of 
other  figures  as  large  as  the  life,  which  played  with  fire  in  the 
same  manner.  In  the  meantime  the  windows  of  the  whole 
city  were  set  with  tapers  put  into  lanterns  or  sconces  of  several 
coloured  oiled  paper,  that  the  wind  might  not  annoy  them  ; 
this  rendered  a  most  glorious  shew.  Besides  there  were  at 
least  twenty  other  fire-works  of  vast  charge  and  rare  art  for 
their  invention  before  divers  ambassadors',  princes'  and 
cardinals'  palaces,  especially  that  on  the  castle  of  St.  Angelo, 
being  a  pyramid  of  lights,  of  great  height,  fastened  to  the  ropes 
and  cables  which  support  the  standard-pole.  The  streets 
were  this  night  as  light  as  day,  full  of  bonfires,  cannon  roaring, 
music  playing,  fountains  running  wine,  in  all  excess  of  joy  and 
triumph. 


ROME  369 


Visits  and  Ceremonies 

I  went  to  the  Jesuit  college.  .  .  .  Here  I  heard  Father 
Athanasius  Kercher  upon  a  part  of  Euclid,  which  he  expounded. 
,  .  .  Hence  I  went  to  the  house  of  Hippolito  Vitellesco  (after- 
wards Bibliothecary  of  the  Vatican  Library)  who  shewed  us 
one  of  the  best  collections  of  statues  in  Rome,  to  which  he 
frequently  talks  as  if  they  were  living,  pronouncing  now  and 
then  orations,  sentences  and  verses,  sometimes  kissing  them 
and  embracing  them.  He  has  a  head  of  Brutus  scarred  by 
order  of  the  senate  for  killing  Julius ;  this  is  much  esteemed. 
.  .  .  This  gentleman  not  long  since  purchased  land  in  the 
kingdom  of  Naples,  in  hope  by  digging  the  ground  to  find 
more  statues ;  which  it  seems  so  far  succeeded  as  to  be  much 
more  worth  than  the  purchase.  .  .  . 

On  Christmas  Eve  I  went  not  to  bed,  being  desirous  of 
seeing  the  many  extraordinary  ceremonies  performed  then  in 
their  Churches,  as  midnight  masses  and  sermons.  I  went  from 
Church  to  Church  the  whole  night  in  admiration  at  the  multi- 
tude of  sceanes  and  pageantry  which  the  Friers  had  with  much 
industry  and  craft  set  out,  to  catch  the  devout  women  and 
superstitious  sort  of  people,  who  never  parted  without  dropping 
some  money  into  a  vessell  set  on  purpose ;  but  especialy  ob- 
servable was  the  pupetry  in  the  Church  of  the  Minerva,  repre- 
senting the  Nativity.  I  thence  went  and  heard  a  sermon  at 
the  Apollinare,  by  which  time  it  was  morning.  On  Christmas 
Day  his  HoUnesse  saing  Masse,  the  artillerie  at  St.  Angelo  went 
off,  and  all  this  day  was  expos'd  the  cradle  of  our  Lord. 

.  .  .  We  were  invited  by  the  English  Jesuites  to  dinner, 
being  their  greate  feast  of  Thomas  [a  Becket]  of  Canterbury. 
We  dined  in  their  common  Refectory,  and  afterwards  saw  an 
Italian  Comedy  acted  by  their  alumni  before  the  Cardinals. 

...  A  Sermon  was  preach'd  to  the  Jewes  at  Ponte  Sisto, 
who  are  constrained  to  sit  till  the  houre  is  don ;  but  it  is  with 
so  much  malice  in  their  countenances,  spitting,  hum'ing,  cough- 
ing, and  motion,  that  it  is  almost  impossible  they  should  heare 
a  word  from  the  preacher.     A  conversion  is  very  rare. 

...  I  went  to  the  Ghetto,  where  the  Jewes  dwell  as  in 
a  suburbe  by  themselves ;  being  invited  by  a  Jew  of  my 
acquaintance  to  see  a  circumcision.  I  passed  by  the  Piazza 
Judea,  where  their  Seraglio  begins;  for  being  inviron'd  with 
walls,  they  are  lock'd  up  every  night.     In  this  place  remaines 

2  A 


370  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

yet  part  of  a  stately  fabric,  which  my  Jew  told  me  had  been  a 
palace  of  theirs  for  the  ambassador  of  their  nation  when  their 
country  was  subject  to  the  Romans.  Being  led  through  the 
Synagogue  into  a  privat  house,  I  found  a  world  of  people  in  a 
chamber  :  by  and  by  came  an  old  man,  who  prepared  and 
layd  in  order  divers  instruments  brought  by  a  little  child  of 
about  7  yeares  old  in  a  box.  These  the  man  lay'd  in  a  silver 
bason  ;  the  knife  was  much  like  a  short  razor  to  shut  into  the 
haft.  Then  they  burnt  some  incense  in  a  censer,  which  per- 
fum'd  the  rome  all  the  while  the  ceremony  was  performing.  .  . . 

A  Roman  Hospital 

We  went  to  see  Dr.  Gibbs,  a  famous  poet  and  countryman 
of  ours,  who  had  some  intendency  in  an  Hospital  built  on  the 
Via  Triumphalis,  called  Christ's  Hospital,  which  he  shew'd  us. 
The  Infirmitory  where  the  sick  lay  was  paved  with  various 
colour'd  marbles,  and  the  walls  hung  with  noble  pieces ;  the 
beds  are  very  faire ;  in  the  middle  is  a  stately  cupola,  under 
which  is  an  altar  decked  with  divers  marble  statues,  all  in 
sight  of  the  sick,  who  may  both  see  and  heare  masse  as  they 
lye  in  their  beds.  The  organs  are  very  fine,  and  frequently 
play'd  on  to  recreate  the  people  in  paine.  To  this  joyns  an 
apartiment  destined  for  the  orphans ;  and  there  is  a  schoole ; 
the  children  weare  blew  like  ours  in  London  at  an  Hospital 
of  the  same  appellation.  Here  are  40  nurses  who  give  suck 
to  such  children  as  are  accidentaly  found  expos'd  and  aban- 
don'd.  In  another  quarter  are  children  of  bigger  growth,  450 
in  number,  who  are  taught  letters.  In  another,  500  girles 
under  the  tuition  of  divers  religious  matrons,  in  a  Monastry, 
as  it  were,  by  itselfe.  I  was  assur'd  there  were  at  least  2000 
more  maintain'd  in  other  places.  I  think  one  appartiment 
had  in  it  neere  1000  beds;  these  are  in  a  very  long  rome 
having  an  inner  passage  for  those  who  attend,  with  as  much 
care,  sweetenesse,  and  conveniency  as  can  be  imagin'd,  the 
Italians  being  generaly  very  neate.  Under  the  portico  the 
sick  may  walke  out  and  take  the  ayre.  Opposite  to  this  are 
other  chambers  for  such  as  are  sick  of  maladies  of  a  more  rare 
and  difficult  cure,  and  they  have  romes  apart.  At  the  end  of 
tlie  long  corridore  is  an  apothecary's  shop,  fair  and  very  well 
stor'd ;  neere  which  are  chambers  for  persons  of  better  quality 
who  are  yet  necessitous.  Whatever  the  poore  bring  is  at  their 
coming  in  deliver'd  to  a  treasurer,  who  makes  an  inventory 


ROME  371 

and  is  accoumptable  to  them,  or  their  representatives  if  they 
dye.  To  this  building  joynes  the  house  of  the  com'endator, 
who  with  his  officers  attending  the  sick  make  up  90  persons  ; 
besides  a  convent  and  an  ample  church  for  the  friers  and 
priests  who  daily  attend.  The  church  is  extreamely  neate, 
and  the  sacristia  very  rich.  Indeede  'tis  altogether  one  of  the 
most  pious  and  worthy  foundations  I  ever  saw  :  nor  is  the 
benefit  small  which  divers  young  physitians  and  chirurgeons 
reape  by  the  experience  they  learne  here  amongst  the  sick,  to 
whom  those  students  have  free  accesse. 


The  Piazza  Navona 

I  went  (as  was  my  usual  costome)  and  spent  an  afternoone 
in  Piazza  Navona,  as  well  to  see  what  antiquities  I  could  pur- 
chase among  the  people  who  hold  mercat  there  for  medaills, 
pictures,  and  such  curiosities,  as  to  heare  the  Montebanks 
prate  and  distribute  their  medicines.  This  was  formerly  the 
Circus  or  Agofiales,  dedicated  to  sports  and  pastimes,  and  is 
now  the  greatest  mercat  of  the  Citty,  having  three  most  noble 
fountaines,  and  the  stately  Palaces  of  the  Pamfilij,  St.  Giacoma 
de  Spagnoli  belonging  to  that  nation,  to  which  add  two  Con- 
vents for  Friers  and  Nuns,  all  Spanish.  In  this  Church  was 
erected  a  most  stately  Catafalco,  or  Capella  ardenie,  for  the 
death  of  the  Queene  of  Spaine ;  the  Church  was  hung  with 
black,  and  heare  I  heard  a  Spanish  sermon  or  funebral  oration, 
and  observed  the  statues,  devises,  and  impreses  hung  about 
the  walls,  the  Church  and  Pyramid  stuck  with  thousands  of 
lights  and  tapers,  which  made  a  glorious  shew.  .  .  .  Returning 
home  I  pass'd  by  the  stumps  of  old  Pasquin  at  the  corner  of  a 
streete  call'd  Strada  Pontificia ;  here  they  still  past  up  their 
drolling  lampoons  and  scurrilous  papers. — Evelyn. 

Rome  in  the  Eighteenth  Century 

The  special  days  set  apart  for  receiving  in  each  house  are 
very  convenient  for  foreigners,  who  know  every  day  of  the 
week  where  they  can  go  and  pass  the  evening.  We  meet  at 
eight  or  nine  in  the  evening  till  eleven  or  midnight,  the  supper- 
hour  generally  for  those  who  take  supper ;  but  many  people 
have  not  the  custom,  and  in  most  places  the  supper  is  very 
light,  so  I  think  that  if  we  were  here  long  we  should  fall  out 
of  the  habit,  as  in  this  climate  one  meal  is  quite  sufficient. 


37-^    THE  BOOK  OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

Any  one  of  a  certain  position  can  easily  have  the  run  of  the 
salons  in  a  week  or  a  fortnight,  and  have  the  acquaintance  of 
the  greater  part  of  the  society  of  the  town.  The  Romans  are 
most  cordial  in  this  respect.  .  .  .  The  house  where  we  go 
most  is  that  of  the  princess  Borghese,  sister  of  the  Constable 
Colonna ;  it  is  also  the  meeting  place  of  the  English.  ,  .  . 

The  Death  of  a  Pope 

I  have  just  seen  in  the  pontifical  palace  a  sorrowful  com- 
mentary on  mortal  greatness.     All  the  halls  were  open  and 
deserted,  and  I  crossed  them  without  seeing  even  a  cat  till  I 
came  to  the  room  of  the  Pope,  whose  body  I  found  reposing 
in  the  bed  used  during  his  lifetime,  guarded  by  four  Jesuits 
of  the   Penitenciary,  who  recited  or  appeared  to  recite  the 
prayers  for  the  dead.     The  Cardinal  Chamberlain  had  come 
at  nine  o'clock  to  perform  his  office,  and  rapped  his  small 
hammer  several  times  on  the  brow  of  the  dead,^  calling  him  by 
his  name  Lorenzo  Corsini.      There  being  no  reply,  he  then 
said  :  "  This  is  why  your  daughter  is  dumb,"  and  taking  from 
his  finger  the  fisher's  ring,  he  broke  it  according  to  the  custom. 
Apparently  every  one  then  followed  the  chamberlain  as  he  went 
out ;  and  immediately  afterwards,  as  the  body  of  the  pope  has 
to  lie  in  state  no  little  time,  the  chin  was  shaved  and  rouge 
was  placed  on  the  cheeks  to  soften  the  great  paleness  of  death. 
.  .  .  Immediately  in  the  town  begin  the  busy  preparations  for 
the  obsequies,  the  monument,  and  the  conclave.    The  cardinal 
chamberlain  has  sovereign  powers  during  the  interregnum ; 
during  several  days  he  has  the  right  to  coin  money  in  his  name 
and  to  his  advantage,  and  he  has  just  sent  word  to  the  master 
of  the  mint  that  he  would  hang  him,  if  during  the  three  days 
following  he  did  not  coin  up  to  a  certain  considerable  sum.  .  .  . 
I  saw  the  funeral  from  the  house  of  the  Due  de  Saint-Aignan, 
and  it  is  only  the  translation  of  the  body  to  St.  Peter's.      The 
dead  Pope  was  borne  on  an  open  litter  of  embroidered  velvet 
fringed  with  gold,  surrounded  by  the  Swiss  guard  of  halbadiers, 
and  preceded  by  the  light  horse  and  some  other  troops,  by 
trumpeters  and  artillery  with  the  muzzle  reversed  on  the  gun- 
carriage  ;  there  were  some  heralds  and  some  torch-bearers,  for 
it  was  at  eight  o'clock  at  night.     I  thought  at  first  that  it  was 
some  military  general,  killed  in  battle  and  brought  back  from  his 
camp,  for  there  was  little  to  be  seen  in  the  way  of  clergy.  .  .  . 
'  This  well-aulhenlicatcd  custom  has  fallen  into  disuse. 


ROME  373 


The  Conclave  Preparations 

It  is  amusing  to  watch  all  the  town  excited  about  the 
beginning  of  the  conclave.  You  must  know  that  it  is  erected 
in  the  interior  of  the  Vatican ;  to  explain  it  in  a  word,  a  small 
town  is  built  in  the  palace,  and  small  houses  are  built  in  the 
large  rooms,  from  which  it  will  be  seen  that  no  town  in  the 
world  is  so  much  inhabited  and  so  stuffy.  The  masons  are  first 
called  in  to  brick  up  all  the  outer  doors  of  the  palace,  the 
porticoes  of  the  loggias  or  hanging  galleries,  the  windows  even, 
leaving  only  two  or  three  panes  of  glass  open  at  the  top  of 
each,  to  let  a  little  light  filter  into  the  gloom.  The  rooms 
being  very  wide  and  lofty,  can  be  divided  into  cabins  built 
with  planks  and  rooms  over  them,  leaving  a  corridor  for 
passage  by  the  chambers.  The  rooms  with  the  finest  paint- 
ings are  not  used,  for  fear  of  damaging  them.  The  grand 
peristyle  just  above  the  door  of  St.  Peter's  forms  a  spacious 
gallery,  where  cells  can  be  built  on  both  sides,  leaving  a  pas- 
sage between  them  ;  this  peristyle  alone  contains  seventeen 
rooms,  and  the  most  adaptable  ones.  All  the  building  has  to 
be  completed  within  twelve  days  ;  and  for  the  entry  of  work- 
men, scaffolding,  wood,  furniture,  utensils  and  so  forth,  there 
is  nothing  save  a  narrow,  but  lofty  door  or  balconied  window, 
which  is  reached  from  the  street  by  a  ladder  for  that  purpose. 
You  will  understand  the  tumult  and  bother  of  building  in  this 
way  and  at  the  same  time,  seventy  houses  in  one  hall.  .  .  . 

Conclave  Ceremonies 

However  wearisome  and  inconvenient  the  life  of  the 
cardinals  in  this  odious  prison,  it  goes  swiftly  nevertheless,  so 
many  are  the  efforts,  intrigues  and  labours  necessary.  Morn- 
ing and  evening  the  cardinals  assemble  in  the  Sistine  Chapel 
to  proceed  to  the  election.  They  sit  in  their  seats,  each  having 
by  him  a  list  of  the  Sacred  College  to  be  marked  with  the 
number  of  votes  given  to  each  as  the  voting  goes  forward. 
Three  cardinals  taken  in  each  order  of  bishop,  priest,  and 
deacon,  are  each  day  chosen  to  conduct  the  voting,  open  the 
papers  and  declare  the  election.  Each  cardinal  after  having 
sworn  before  the  altar  that  he  proceeds  without  interest  or 
consideration  and  secretly,  but  in  his  conscience,  and  for  the 
greater  glory  of  God,  and  the  prosperity  of  the  church  (the 


374  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

formula  is  every  time  repeated),  places  his  voting  paper  in  the 
presence  of  the  three  inspectors  in  an  urn  on  a  small  table  in 
the  middle  of  the  chapel.  The  paper  contains  the  name  of 
the  nominator  and  the  nominee,  and  furthermore  a  certain 
particular  motto  taken  from  some  passage  in  Scripture.  The 
paper  is  folded  and  sealed  at  each  fold ;  the  lowest  fold  is 
opened  first,  so  that  only  the  name  of  the  person  voted  for  is 
seen  ;  but  the  number  of  the  papers  is  carefully  counted  before 
anything  is  opened.  If  this  number  is  found  to  be  less  than 
that  of  the  cardinals  present,  the  papers  are  burnt  and  every- 
thing; is  becfun  anew.  If  none  of  the  cardinals  have  a  sufficient 
number  for  election,  that  is  :  two  thirds  of  the  entire  votes,  the 
papers  are  burnt  without  further  examination,  so  that  the 
nominators  may  remain  unknown.  If  the  sufificient  number 
of  votes  is  given,  then  the  interior  folds  of  the  voting  papers 
are  unsealed  to  verify  the  nominators  and  the  motto,  of  which 
each  one  doubtless  keeps  a  copy.  As  matters  might  never 
end  with  the  system  of  voting,  there  is  another  called  the 
accessit,  which  is  the  adhesion  to  a  cardinal  already  voted  for, 
and  if  the  votes  and  accessions  make  a  sufficient  number,  the 
election  is  good  canonically. — De  Brasses. 


Thoughts  from  Goethk 

I  have  now  been  here  seven  days,  and  by  degrees  have 
formed  in  my  mind  a  general  plan  of  the  city.  We  go  dili- 
gently backwards  and  forwards.  While  I  am  thus  making 
myself  acquainted  with  the  plan  of  old  and  new  Rome,  viewing 
the  ruins  and  the  buildings,  visiting  this  and  that  villa,  the 
grandest  and  most  remarkable  objects  are  slowly  and  leisurely 
contemplated.  I  do  but  keep  my  eyes  open  and  see,  and 
then  go  and  come  again,  for  it  is  only  in  Rome  one  can  duly 
prepare  oneself  for  Rome.  .  .  .  We  meet  with  traces  both  of 
majesty  and  ruin,  which  alike  surpass  all  conception.  .  .  . 
This  vastness  has  a  strangely  tranquillising  effect  upon  you  in 
Rome,  while  you  pass  from  place  to  place,  in  order  to  visit  the 
most  remarkable  objects.  In  other  places  one  has  to  search 
for  what  is  important ;  here  one  is  oppressed  and  borne  down 
by  numberless  phenomena.  Wherever  one  goes  and  casts 
a  look  around,  the  eye  is  at  once  struck  with  some  landscape — 
forms  of  every  kind  and  style ;  palaces  and  ruins,  gardens  and 
statuary,  distant  views  of  villas,  cottages  and  stables,  triumphal 


ROME  375 

arches  and  columns,  often  crowded  so  close  together  that  they 
might  all  be  sketched  on  a  single  sheet  of  paper.   .  .  . 

I  frequently  stand  still  a  moment  to  survey,  as  it  were,  the 
heights  I  have  already  won.  With  much  delight  I  look  back 
to  Venice,  that  grand  creation  that  sprang  out  of  the  bosom 
of  the  sea,  like  Minerva  out  of  the  head  of  Jupiter.  In  Rome, 
the  Rotunda,  both  by  its  exterior  and  interior,  has  moved  me 
to  offer  a  willing  homage  to  its  magnificence.  In  St.  Peter's 
I  learned  to  understand  how  art,  no  less  than  nature,  annihi- 
lates the  artificial  measures  and  dimensions  of  man.   .  .  . 

Yesterday  I  visited  the  nymph  Egeria,  and  then  the 
Hippodrome  of  Caracalla,  the  ruined  tombs  along  the  Via 
Appia,  and  the  tomb  of  Metella  which  is  the  first  to  give  one 
a  true  idea  of  what  solid  masonry  is.  These  men  worked  for 
eternity — all  causes  of  decay  were  calculated,  except  the  rage 
of  the  spoiler,  which  nothing  can  resist.  ...  In  the  evening 
we  came  upon  the  Coliseum,  when  it  was  already  twilight. 
When  one  looks  at  it,  all  else  seems  little  ;  the  edifice  is  so 
vast,  that  one  cannot  hold  the  image  of  it  in  one's  soul — in 
memory  we  think  it  smaller,  and  then  return  to  it  again  to 
find  it  every  time  greater  than  before.  .  .  . 

Of  the  people  I  can  say  nothing  more  than  that  they  are 
fine  children  of  nature,  who  amidst  pomp  and  honours  of  all 
kinds,  religion  and  the  arts,  are  not  one  jot  different  from 
what  they  would  be  in  caves  and  forests.  What  strikes  the 
stranger  most,  and  what  to-day  is  making  the  whole  city  talk, 
but  only  talk,  is  the  common  occurrence  of  assassination.  .  .  . 

I  wish  to  see  Rome  in  its  abiding  and  permanent  features, 
and  not  as  it  passes  and  changes  with  every  ten  years.  Had 
I  time,  I  might  wish  to  employ  it  better.  Above  all,  one  may 
study  history  here  quite  differently  from  what  one  can  on  any 
other  spot.  In  other  places  one  has,  as  it  were,  to  read 
oneself  into  it  from  without ;  here  one  fancies  that  he  reads 
from  within  outwards  :  all  arranges  itself  around  you,  and 
seems  to  proceed  from  you.  All  this  holds  good  not  only  of 
Roman  history,  but  also  of  that  of  the  whole  world.  From 
Rome  I  can  accompany  the  conquerors  on  their  march  to  the 
Weser  or  to  the  Euphrates ;  or  if  I  wish  to  be  a  sight-seer,  I 
can  wait  in  the  Via  Sacra  for  the  triumphant  generals.  .  .  . 

It  becomes  every  day  more  difficult  to  fix  the  termination 
of  my  stay  in  Rome ;  just  as  one  finds  the  sea  continually 
deeper  the  further  one  sails  on  it,  so  it  is  also  with  the 
examination  of  this  city. — Goethe. 


376  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

ROMAN    LIFE 
The  Old  Ghetto 

The  existence  of  a  colony  of  Jews  so  near  to  the  Apostolic 
seat  was  a  curious  anomaly.  .  .  .  Hebrew  blood  was  not 
shed  in  the  middle  ages  in  Rome,  when  it  was  being  shed 
abundantly  in  Spain  and  France.  The  Popes  preserved  the 
Jews  as  specimens  of  a  race  accursed,  which  had  to  drag  out 
its  wretched  existence  till  the  end  of  the  world  :  it  was  enough 
to  keep  the  Jews  at  a  distance,  to  humiliate  and  plunder  them. 
They  were  first  herded  in  the  valley  of  Egeria,  more  than  two 
miles  from  the  San  Lorenzo  gate,  and  more  than  a  league 
from  the  actual  town.  It  was  far  enough  and  in  the  fourteenth 
century,  the  measure  of  severity  was  relaxed  and  they  were 
allowed  to  live  on  the  Transtevere.  Between  1555  and  1559, 
they  came  nearer  and  Paul  IV.  settled  them  in  the  Ghetto. 
The  gates  of  their  quarter  were  shut  every  night,  at  half  past 
ten  in  summer  and  half  past  nine  in  winter ;  if  any  one  was 
shut  out,  he  could  not  enter  without  bribing  the  soldiers  of  the 
guard.  The  lessors  of  the  houses  were  either  good  Catholics, 
or  religious  communities,  and  they  thought  it  a  work  of  piety  to 
exact  the  highest  rents  possible.  This  abuse  excited  the  pity 
of  Urban  VIII.  He  thought  it  only  just  and  foreseeing  to  fix 
the  amount  of  the  rentals  once  and  for  all.  .  .  .  Urban  VIII. 
is  dead  .  .  .  but  his  imprudent  Bull  still  remained  in  force. 
Rents  were  increased  all  the  world  over,  with  the  exception  of 
the  Ghetto.  .  .  . 

Since  1847,  the  gates  of  the  Ghetto  have  been  demolished, 
and  no  visible  barrier  separates  Jews  from  Christians.  They 
have  the  legal  right,  if  not  the  moral  right,  to  settle  and  live 
where  they  please.  ...  It  was  also  under  the  rule  of  Pius 
IX.  that  Israel  ceased  to  provide  the  expenses  of  the  carnival. 
In  the  middle  ages  the  Jews  paid  in  person,  for  the  town  gave 
the  citizens  the  festival  of  the  Jews'  race.  Benedict  XIV. 
replaced  them  by  horses,  which  made  infinitely  better  sport, 
but  the  Jews  had  to  pay  ransom  in  a  yearly  sum  of  800 
crowns. — E.  About. 

Pasquin  and  Marforio 

Since  the  reputation  of  the  famous  Pasquin  makes  you 
desirous  to  be  informed  more  particularly  concerning  him  and 


ROME  377 

his  companion  Marforio,  I  will  endeavour  to  satisfy  your 
curiosity.  The  first  is  a  mangled  and  disfigured  statue,  which, 
some  think,  was  made  for  a  Roman  soldier ;  it  stands  leaning 
against  the  wall  of  a  house,  at  the  corner  of  a  place  where 
several  streets  meet.  I  know  not  whether  you  have  heard  of 
that  pleasant  answer  which  Alexander  VI.  is  said  to  have 
given  to  those  who  advised  him  to  throw  Fasquin  into  the 
Tiber,  because  of  the  continual  satires  which  that  critical 
statue  made  against  him: — "I  should  be  afraid,"  said  he, 
"  lest  it  should  be  turned  to  a  frog  and  trouble  me  both  night 
and  day  with  its  croaking." 

Marforio  is  another  maimed  figure,  by  some  said  to  have 
been  a  statue  of  Jupiter,  or,  according  to  others,  of  the  Rhine, 
or  of  the  Nera,  which  passes  by  Terni ;  but  all  this  is  uncer- 
tain, as  well  as  the  etymology  of  the  names  of  our  two 
censurers.  'Tis  very  probable  that  it  was  formerly  the  mode 
to  affix  the  pasquinades  on  the  statue  of  Pasquin,  but  that 
custom  is  laid  aside,  and  all  the  satirical  invectives  are  still 
fathered  on  Pasquin,  though  they  never  come  near  him.  'Tis 
usual  to  make  him  answer  the  questions  that  are  proposed  to 
him  by  Marforio. — Misson. 

The  Feast  of  S.  Antony 

Yesterday,  which  was  the  festival  of  the  Holy  Abbot  S. 
Antony,  we  had  a  merry  day ;  the  weather  was  the  finest  in 
the  world  ;  though  there  had  been  a  hard  frost  during  the 
night,  the  day  was  bright  and  warm.  One  may  remark,  that 
all  religions  which  enlarge  their  worship  or  their  speculations 
must  at  last  come  to  this,  of  making  the  brute  creation  in 
some  degree  partakers  of  spiritual  favours.  S.  Antony, — 
Abbot  or  Bishop, — is  the  patron  Saint  of  all  four-footed 
creatures.  ...  All  the  gentry  must  on  this  day  either  remain 
at  home,  or  else  be  content  to  travel  on  foot.  And  there 
are  no  lack  of  fearful  stories,  which  tell  how  unbelieving 
masters,  who  forced  the  coachmen  to  drive  them  on  this 
day,  were  punished  by  suffering  great  calamities. 

The  church  of  the  Saint  lies  in  so  wide  and  open  a  district, 
that  it  might  almost  be  called  a  desert.  On  this  day,  however, 
it  is  full  of  life  and  fun.  Horses  and  mules,  with  their  manes 
and  tails  prettily,  not  to  say  gorgeously,  decked  out  with 
ribbons,  are  brought  before  the  little  chapel,  (which  stands 
at  some  distance  from  the  church,)  where   a   priest,    armed 


378  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

with  a  brush,  and  not  sparing  of  the  holy  water,  which  stands 
before  him  in  buckets  and  tubs,  goes  on  sprinkling  the  lively 
creatures,  and  often  plays  them  a  roguish  trick,  in  order  to 
make  them  start  and  frisk.  Pious  coachmen  offer  their  wax- 
tapers,  of  larger  or  smaller  size ;  the  masters  send  alms  and 
presents,  in  order  that  the  valuable  and  useful  animals  may  go 
safely  through  the  coming  year  without  hurt  or  accidents. 
The  donkeys  and  horned  cattle,  no  less  valuable  and  useful  to 
their  owners,  have,  likewise,  their  modest  share  in  this  blessing. 
— Goethe. 

Letters  to  a  Saint 

The  modern  Romans  are  a  very  devout  people.  The 
Princess  Doria  washes  the  pilgrims'  feet  in  Holy  Week ;  every 
evening,  foul  or  fair,  the  whole  year  round,  there  is  a  rosary 
sung  before  an  image  of  the  Virgin,  within  a  stone's  throw  of 
my  window ;  and  the  young  ladies  write  letters  to  vSt.  Louis 
Gonzaga,  who,  in  all  paintings  and  sculpture,  is  represented  as 
young  and  angelically  beautiful.  I  saw  a  large  pile  of  these 
letters  a  few  weeks  ago  in  Gonzaga's  chapel,  at  the  Church  of 
St.  Ignatius.  They  were  lying  at  the  foot  of  the  altar,  prettily 
written  on  smooth  paper,  and  tied  with  silken  ribands  of  various 
colours.  Leaning  over  the  marble  balustrade,  I  read  the 
following  superscription  upon  one  of  them  : — "  Al'  Angelico 
Giovane  S.  Luigi  Gonzaga, — Paradiso." — To  the  angelic  youth 
St.  Lewis  Gonzaga,  Paradise.  A  soldier  with  a  musket  kept 
guard  over  this  treasure,  and  I  had  the  audacity  to  ask  him  at 
what  hour  the  mail  went  out. — Longfellow. 

Carnival  in  the  Nineteenth  Century 

The  Corso  is  a  street  a  mile  long ;  a  street  of  shops,  and 
palaces,  and  private  houses,  sometimes  opening  into  a  broad 
piazza.  These  are  verandahs  and  balconies  of  all  shapes  and 
sizes  to  almost  every  house.  .  .  .  This  is  the  great  fountain- 
head  and  focus  of  the  carnival.  .  .  .  From  all  the  innumerable 
balconies  :  from  the  remotest  and  highest,  no  less  than  from 
the  lowest  and  nearest :  hangings  of  bright  red,  bright  green, 
bright  blue,  white  and  gold,  were  fluttering  in  the  brilliant 
sunlight.  From  windows  and  from  parapets,  and  tops  of 
houses,  streamers  of  the  richest  colours,  and  draperies  of  the 
gaudiest  and  most  sparkling  hues,  were  floating  out  upon  the 
streets.     The  buildings  seemed  to  have  been  literally  turned 


ROME 


379 


inside  out,  and  to  have  all  their  gaiety  towards  the  highway. 
Shop-fronts  were  taken  down,  and  the  windows  filled  with 
company,  like  boxes  at  a  shining  theatre.  .  .  .  Every  sort  of 
bewitching  madness  of  dress  was  there.  .  .   . 

Carriages  on  carriages,  dresses  on  dresses,  colours  on 
colours,  crowds  upon  crowds,  without  end.  Men  and  boys 
clinging  to  the  wheels  of  coaches,  and  holding  on  behind,  and 
following  in  their  wake,  and  diving  in  among  the  horses'  feet 
to  pick  up  scattered  flowers  to  sell  again ;  maskers  on  foot 
(the  drollest  generally)  in  fantastic  exaggerations  of  court 
dresses,  surveying  the  throng  through  enormous  eye-glasses, 
and  always  transported  with  an  ecstasy  of  love  on  the  discovery 
of  any  particularly  old  lady  at  the  window ;  long  strings  of 
Polichinelli  laying  about  them  with  blown  bladders  at  the  end 
of  sticks ;  a  waggonfuU  of  madmen  screaming  and  tearing  to 
the  life ;  a  coachful  of  grave  mamelukes,  with  their  horsetail 
standard  set  up  in  the  midst ;  a  party  of  gipsy-women  engaged 
in  terrific  conflict  with  a  shipful  of  sailors;  a  man-monkey  on 
a  pole  surrounded  by  strange  animals  with  pigs'  faces,  and 
lion's  tails,  carried  under  their  arms  or  worn  gracefully  over 
their  shoulders ;  carriages  on  carriages,  dresses  on  dresses, 
colours  on  colours,  crowds  upon  crowds,  without  end.  .  .  . 

How  it  ever  is  cleared  for  the  race  that  takes  place  at  five, 
or  how  the  horses  ever  go  through  the  race,  without  going  over 
the  people,  is  more  than  I  can  say.  But  the  carriages  get  out 
into  the  by-streets,  or  up  into  the  Piazza  del  Popolo,  and  some 
people  sit  in  temporary  galleries  in  the  latter  place,  and  tens 
of  thousands  line  the  Corso  on  both  sides,  when  the  horses  are 
brought  out  into  the  Piazza — to  the  foot  of  the  same  column 
which  for  centuries  looked  down  upon  the  games  and  chariot- 
races  in  the  Circus  Maximus.  At  a  given  signal  they  are 
started  off.  Down  the  live  lane,  the  whole  length  of  the 
Corso,  they  fly  like  the  wind,  riderless,  as  all  the  world  knows, 
with  shining  ornaments  upon  their  backs,  and  twisted  in  their 
plaited  manes,  and  with  heavy  little  balls  stuck  full  of  spikes, 
dangling  at  their  sides  to  goad  them  on.  The  jingling  of  these 
trappings,  and  the  rattling  of  their  hoofs  upon  the  hard  stones  ; 
the  dash  and  fury  of  their  speed  along  the  echoing  street ;  nay, 
the  very  cannon  that  are  fired,  these  noises  are  nothing  to  the 
roaring  of  the  multitudes  :  their  shouts ;  the  clapping  of  their 
hands.  But  it  is  soon  over — almost  instantaneously.  More 
cannon  shake  the  town.     The  horses  have  plunged  into  the 


38o  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

carpets   put   across    the    street    to    stop   them ;    the  goal   is 
reached. .  .  . 

But  if  the  scene  be  bright,  and  gay  and  crowded,  on  the 
last  day  but  one,  it  attains,  on  the  concluding  day,  to  such  a 
height  of  glittering  colour,  swarming  life  and  frolicsome  uproar, 
that  the  bare  recollection  of  it  makes  me  giddy  at  this  moment. 
The  same  diversions,  greatly  heightened,  and  intensified  in  the 
ardour  with  which  they  are  pursued,  go  on  till  the  same  hour. 
.  .   .  The  diversion  of  the  Moccoletti,  the  last  gay  madness  of 
the  carnival,  is  now  at  hand ;  the  sellers  of  little  tapers,  like 
what  are  called  Christmas  candles  in  England,  are  shouting 
lustily  on  every  side,  "  Moccoli,  Moccoli !     Ecco  Moccoli !  "  a 
new  item  in  the  tumult ;  quite  abolishing  that  other  item  of 
"  Ecco  Fiori !  Ecco  Fidr— r— r  !  "  .  .  .As  the  bright  hangings 
and  dresses  are  all  fading  into  one  dull,  heavy,  uniform  colour 
in  the  decline  of  the  day,  lights  begin  flashing  here  and  there 
in  the  windows,  on  the  house-tops,  in  the  balconies,  in  the 
carriages,  in  the  hands  of  the  foot-passengers  :  little  by  little, 
gradually,  more  and  more,  until  the  whole  long  street  is  one 
great  glare  and  blaze  of  fire.     Then  everybody  present  has  but 
one  engrossing  object,   that  is,   to  extinguish  other  people's 
candles,  and  to  keep  his  ow^n  alight;   and  everybody,  man, 
woman  or  child,  gentleman  or  lady,  prince  or  peasant,  native 
or  foreigner,   yells  and  screams  and  roars  incessantly,   as  a 
taunt  to  the  subdued,    "  Senza   Moccolo,   Senza    Moccolo ! " 
(without  a  light,  without  a  light !)  until  nothing  is  heard  but 
a  gigantic  chorus  of  those  two  words.  .  .  . 

In  the  wildest  enthusiasm  of  the  cry,  and  fullest  ecstasy  of 
the  sport,  the  Ave  Maria  rings  from  the  church  steeples,  and 
the  Carnival  is  over  in  an  instant — put  out  like  a  taper,  with 
a  breath. — Dickens. 

Lying  in  State 

Three  days  ago  the  old  Prince  Corsini  died,  and  to-day  his 
body  has  been  lying  in  state  in  the  great  palace  of  his  family. 
It  was  in  this  palace  that  Christina,  Queen  of  Sweden  and  the 
daughter  of  Gustavus  Adolphus  died.  To-day  the  doors  have 
been  open,  and  every  one  who  desired  has  been  admitted  to 
see  the  state  apartments  and  the  dead  Prince.  All  sorts  of 
persons  have  been  going  up  the  magnificent  double  flight  of 
stairs, — ladies  and  gentlemen,  poor  women  with  their  babies 
in  their  arms,  priests,  soldiers,  ragged  workmen,  boys  and  girls. 


ROME  381 

and  strangers  of  all  kinds.  There  were  no  signs  of  mourning 
about  the  house,  but  in  the  first  great  saloon  sat  two  men  in 
black  gowns,  busily  employed  in  writing,  as  if  making  inven- 
tories ;  and  in  each  of  the  next  two  rooms  were  two  priests  in 
their  showy  robes,  performing  separate  masses,  while  many 
people  knelt  on  the  floors,  and  others  streamed  through  to 
the  apartment  in  which  the  corpse  was  laid  out.  Here,  on  a 
black  and  yellow  carpet,  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  surrounded 
by  benches  which  were  covered  with  a  black  cloth  on  which 
was  a  faded  yellow  skeleton  of  a  scythe,  lay  the  body  of  the 
old  man.  He  was  eighty-nine  years  old  ;  but  here  was  nothing 
of  the  dignity  of  age,  or  the  repose  of  death.  The  corpse  was 
dressed  in  full  court-costume — in  a  bright  blue  coat,  with  gold 
laces  and  orders  upon  the  breast,  white  silk  stockings  and 
varnished  pumps.  It  had  on  a  wig,  and  its  lips  and  cheeks 
were  rouged.  At  its  feet  and  at  its  head  was  a  candle  burn- 
ing ;  two  hired  mourners  sat  at  each  side,  and  two  soldiers 
kept  the  crowd  from  pressing  too  near  or  lingering  too  long. 
The  room,  which  was  not  darkened,  was  hung  with  damask 
and  purple  and  gold,  and  the  high  ceiling  was  painted  with 
gay  frescoes  of  some  story  of  the  gods.  It  was  a  fit  scene 
for  the  grave-digger's  grim  jokes  and  Hamlet's  philosophy. — 
C.  E.  Norton. 

ARCHITECTURE   AND   ART 
St,  Peter's 

I  visited  St.  Peter's,  that  most  stupendious  and  incom- 
parable Basilicum,  far  surpassing  any  now  extant  in  the  world, 
and  perhaps,  Solomon's  Temple  excepted,  any  that  was  ever 
built.  The  largeness  of  the  piazza  ^  before  the  portico  is  worth 
observing,  because  it  affords  a  noble  prospect  of  the  Church, 

1  Shelley  gives  us  a  curious  picture  of  Papal  Rome  in  the  following  : 
"  In  the  Square  of  St.  Peter's  there  are  about  three  hundred  fettered 
criminals  at  work,  hoeing  out  the  weeds  that  grow  between  the  stones  of 
the  pavement.  Their  legs  are  heavily  ironed,  and  some  are  chained  two 
by  two.  They  sit  in  long  rows,  hoeing  out  the  weeds,  dressed  in  parti- 
coloured clothes.  Near  them  sit  or  saunter  groups  of  soldiers,  armed  with 
loaded  muskets.  The  iron  discord  of  those  innumerable  chains  clanks  up 
into  the  sonorous  air,  and  produces,  contrasted  with  the  musical  dashing  of 
the  fountains,  and  the  deep  azure  laeauty  of  the  sky,  and  the  magnificence 
of  the  architecture  around,  a  conflict  of  sensations  allied  to  madness.  It 
is  the  emblem  of  Italy — moral  degradation  contrasted  with  the  glory  of 
nature  and  the  arts." 


382  THE  BOOK   OF  ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

not  crowded  up  as  for  the  most  part  is  the  case  in  other  places 
where  grcate  churches  are  erected.  In  this  is  a  fountaine  out 
of  which  gushes  a  river  rather  than  a  streeme,  which  ascending 
a  good  height  breakes  upon  a  round  embosse  of  marble  into 
millions  of  pearles  that  fall  into  the  subjacent  basons  with 
greate  noise ;  I  esteeme  this  one  of  the  goodliest  fountaines  I 
ever  saw. 

Next  is  the  Obelisq  transported  out  of  Egypt  and  dedicated 
by  Octavius  Augustus  to  Julius  Caesar,  whose  ashes  it  formerly 
bore  on  the  sumit ;  but  being  since  overturn'd  by  the  Barba- 
rians, was  re-erected  with  vast  cost  and  a  most  stupendious 
invention  by  Domenico  Fontana,  architect  to  Sixtus  V.  The 
Obelisk  consists  of  one  intire  square  stone  without  hieroglyphic, 
in  height  72  foote,  but  comprehending  the  base  and  all  'tis  108 
foote  high.  It  rests  on  4  lyons  of  gilded  copper.  You  may 
see  through  the  base  of  the  Obelisq  and  plinth  of  the  piedestal. 
...  It  is  reported  to  have  taken  a  year  in  erecting,  to  have 
cost  37,975  crowns,  the  labour  of  907  men  and  75  horses.  .  .  . 

Before  the  faciata  of  the  church  is  an  ample  pavement. 
The  church  was  first  begun  by  St.  Anacletus  when  rather  a 
chapel,  on  a  foundation  as  they  give  out  of  Constantine  the 
Great,  who  in  honour  of  the  Apostles  carried  1 2  baskets  full  of 
sand  to  the  work.  After  him  Julius  II.  took  it  in  hand,  to 
which  all  his  successors  have  contributed  more  or  less.  The 
front  is  supposed  to  be  the  largest  and  best  studied  piece  of 
architecture  in  the  world ;  to  this  we  went  up  by  four  steps  of 
marble.  The  first  entrance  is  supported  by  huge  pilasters  ; 
the  volto  within  is  the  richest  in  the  world,  overlaid  with  gold. 
Between  the  five  large  antiports  are  columns  of  enormous 
weight  and  compass,  with  as  many  gates  of  brass,  the  work  of 
Pallaiulo  the  Florentine,  full  of  cast  figures  and  histories  in  a 
deep  relievo.  Over  this  runs  a  terrace  of  like  amplitude  and 
ornament,  where  the  Pope  at  solemn  times  bestowes  his 
benediction  on  the  vulgar.  On  each  side  of  this  portico  are 
two  campaniles,  or  towers,  whereof  there  was  but  one  per- 
fected, of  admirable  art.  On  the  top  of  all  runs  a  balustrade, 
which  edges  it  quite  round,  and  upon  this  at  equal  distances 
are  Christ  and  the  twelve  disciples  of  gigantic  size  and  stature, 
yet  shewing  no  greater  than  the  life.  Entering  the  church, 
admirable  is  the  breadth  of  the  volto  or  roof  which  is  all 
carved  with  fohage  and  roses  overlaid  with  gold  in  nature  of  a 
deep  bass  relievo,  a  Vantiq.  The  nave,  or  body  is  in  the  form 
of  a  cross,  whereof  the  foot  part  is  the  longest ;  and  at  the 


ROME  383 

internodium  of  the  transept  rises  the  cupola,  which  being  all 
of  stone  and  of  prodigious  height  is  more  in  compass  than  the 
Pantheon  (which  was  the  largest  amongst  the  old  Romans,  and 
is  yet  entire)  or  any  other  in  the  world.  The  inside  or  concave 
is  covered  with  most  exquisite  mosaics  representing  the  Celestial 
Hierarchy,  by  Giuseppe  d'Arpino,  full  of  starrs  of  gold;  the 
convex  or  outside  expos'd  to  the  aire,  is  cover'd  with  lead  with 
great  ribbs  of  metall  double  guilt  (as  are  also  the  ten  other  lesser 
cupolas,  for  no  fewer  adorn  this  glorious  structure)  which  gives 
a  great  and  admirable  splendor  in  all  parts  of  the  Citty.  On 
the  sum'it  of  this  is  fix'd  a  brasen  globe  gilt,  capable  of  receiv- 
ing 35  persons.  This  I  entered  and  engrav'd  my  name  amongst 
other  travellers.  Lastly  is  the  crosse,  the  access  to  which  is 
betweene  the  leaden  covering  and  the  stone  convex  or  arch- 
worke,  a  most  truly  astonishing  piece  of  art.  On  the  battle- 
ments of  the  Church,  also  all  overlayd  with  lead  and  marble, 
you  would  imagine  yourself  in  a  town,  so  many  are  the  cupolas, 
pinnacles,  towers,  juttings,  and  not  a  few  houses  inhabited  by 
men  who  dwell  there,  and  have  enough  to  do  to  looke  after 
the  vast  reparations  which  continually  employ  them. 

We  descended  into  the  body  of  the  Church,  which  is  full 
of  coUaterall  Chapells  and  large  Oratories,  most  of  them  ex- 
ceeding the  size  of  ordinary  Churches ;  but  the  principal  are 
fowre  incrusted  with  most  precious  marbles  and  stones  of 
various  colours,  adorn'd  with  an  infinity  of  statues,  pictures, 
stately  altars,  and  innumerable  reliques.  The  altar-piece  of 
St.  Michael  being  of  Mosaiq  I  could  not  passe  without 
particular  note,  as  one  of  the  best  of  that  kind.  The  Chapel 
of  Gregory  XIII.  where  he  is  buried,  is  most  splendid.  Under 
the  cupola,  and  in  the  center  of  the  Church,  stands  the  high 
altar,  consecrated  first  by  Clement  VIII.  adorn'd  by  Paul  V. 
and  lately  cover'd  by  Pope  Urban  VIII.  with  that  stupendous 
canopy  of  Corinthian  brasse  which  heretofore  was  brought 
from  the  Pantheon ;  it  consists  of  4  wreath'd  columns  partly 
channel'd  and  incircl'd  with  vines,  on  which  hang  little  puti, 
birds  and  bees  (the  armes  of  the  Barbarini),  sustaining  a 
baldachino  of  the  same  mettal.  The  4  columns  weigh  an 
hundred  and  ten  thousand  pounds,  all  over  richly  gilt ;  this 
with  the  pedestalls,  crowne,  and  statues  about  it,  form  a  thing 
of  that  art,  vastness,  and  magnificence,  as  is  beyond  all  that 
man's  industry  has  produced  of  the  kind  :  it  is  the  work  of 
Bernini,  a  Florentine  sculptor,  architect,  painter,  and  poet, 
who,   a  little  before  my  coming  to  the  Citty,  gave  a  publiq 


384  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Opera  (for  so  they  call  shews  of  that  kind)  wherein  he  painted 
the  scenes,  cut  the  statues,  invented  the  engines,  compos'd  the 
musiq,  writ  the  comedy,  and  built  the  theatre.  Opposite 
to  either  of  these  pillars,  under  those  niches  which  with 
their  columns  support  the  weighty  cupola,  are  placed  4 
exquisite  statues  of  Parian  marble,  to  which  are  4  altars ;  that 
of  St.  Veronica  made  by  Fra.  Mochi,  has  over  it  the  Reliquary, 
where  they  shew'd  us  the  miraculous  Sudarium  indued  with  the 
l)icture  of  our  Saviour's  face,  with  this  inscription  :  "  Salvatoris 
imaginem  Veronicte  Sudario  excepta  ut  loci  majestas  decenter 
custodiret,  Urbanus  VIII.  Pont.  Max.  Marmoreum  signum  et 
Altare  addidit,  Conditorium  extruxit  et  ornavit." 

Right  against  this  is  that  of  Longinus,  of  a  Colossean 
magnitude,  also  by  Bernini,  and  over  him  the  Conservatory  of 
the  iron  lance  inserted  in  a  most  precious  chrystal,  with  this 
epigraph:  "  Longini  Lanceam  quam  Innocentius  VIII.  a 
Basagete  Turcarum  Tyranno  accepit,  Urbanus  VIII.  statua 
apposita  et  Sacello  substructo,  in  exornatum  Conditorium 
transtulit." 

The  third  Chapel  has  over  the  altar  the  statue  of  our 
countrywoman  St.  Helena,  the  mother  of  Constantine  the 
Great,  the  worke  of  Boggi,  an  excellent  sculptor;  and  here 
is  preserved  a  greate  piece  of  the  pretended  wood  of  the  holy 
crosse,  which  she  is  said  to  have  first  detected  miraculously 
in  the  Holy  Land.  It  was  placed  here  by  the  late  Pope  with 
this  inscription :  "  Partem  Crucis  quam  Helena  Imperatrix  e 
Calvario  in  Urbem  adduxit,  Urbanus  VIII.  Pont.  Max.  e 
Sissoriana  Basilica  desumptam,  additis  ara  et  statua,  hie  in 
Vaticano  collocavit." 

The  4th  hath  over  the  altar,  and  opposite  to  that  of 
St.  Veronica,  the  statue  of  St.  Andrew,  the  work  of  Fiamingo, 
admirable  above  all  the  other ;  above  is  preserv'd  the  head  of 
that  Apostle  richly  inchas'd.  It  is  said  that  this  excellent 
sculptor  died  mad  to  see  his  statue  placed  in  a  disadvantageous 
light  by  Bernini  the  chiefe  architect,  who  found  himselfe  out- 
done by  this  artist.     The  inscription  over  it  is  this  : 

"  St.  Andrese  caput  quod  Pius  II.  ex  Achaia  in  Vaticanum 
asportam  dum  curavit,  Urbanus  VIII.  novis  hie  ornamentis 
decoratum  sacrisq'  statuae,  ac  Sacelli  honoribus  coli  voluit." 

The  Reliques  shew'd  and  kept  in  this  Church  are  without 
number,  as  are  also  the  precious  vessels  of  gold,  silver,  and 
gems,  with  the  vests  and  services  to  be  scene  in  the  Sacristy, 
which  they  shew'd  us.     Under  the  higli  altar  is  an  ample  grot 


ROME  385 

inlaid  with  Pietra  Coni'essa,  wherein  half  of  the  bodies  of 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul  are  preserv'd ;  before  hang  divers  greate 
lamps  of  the  richest  plate  burning  continually.  About  this 
and  contiguous  to  the  altar  runns  a  balustrade  in  forme  of  a 
theatre,  of  black  marble.  Towards  the  left  as  you  goe  out  of 
the  Church  by  the  portico,  a  little  beneath  the  high  altar  is  an 
old  brasse  statue  of  St.  Peter  sitting,  under  the  soles  of  whose 
feete  many  devout  persons  rub  their  heads  and  touch  their 
chaplets.  This  was  formerly  cast  from  a  statue  of  Jupiter 
Capitolinus.  In  another  place  stands  a  columne  grated  about 
with  yron,  whereon  they  report  that  our  Bl.  Saviour  was  often 
wont  to  leane  as  he  preached  in  the  Temple.  In  the  work  of 
the  rehquary  under  the  cupola  there  are  8  wreathed  columns 
which  were  brought  from  the  Temple  of  Solomon.  In  another 
Chapell  they  shew'd  us  the  chayre  of  St.  Peter,  or  as  they 
name  it,  the  Apostolical  Throne  ;  but  amongst  all  the  Chapells 
the  one  most  glorious  has  for  an  altar-piece,  a  Madona  bearing 
a  dead  Christ  on  her  knees  in  white  marble,  the  work  of  M. 
Angelo.  At  the  upper  end  of  the  Cathedral  are  several  stately 
monuments,  especially  that  of  Urban  VIII.  Round  the  cupola 
and  in  many  other  places  in  the  Church  are  confession-seates 
for  all  languages,  Hebrew,  Greek,  Latin,  Spanish,  Italian, 
French,  English,  Irish,  Welsh,  Sclavonian,  Dutch,  etc.,  as  it  is 
written  on  their  friezes  in  golden  capitals,  and  there  are  still 
at  confessions  some  of  the  nations.  Towards  the  lower  end  of 
the  Church  and  on  the  side  of  a  vast  pillar  sustaining  a  weighty 
roof,  is  the  depositum  and  statue  of  the  Countess  Matilda,  a 
rare  piece,  with  basso-relievos  about  it  of  white  marble,  the 
work  of  Bernini.  Here  are  also  those  of  Sixtus  IV.  and 
Paulus  III.,  etc.  Amongst  the  exquisite  pieces  in  this 
sumptuous  fabric  is  that  of  the  Ship  ^  with  St.  Peter  held  up 
from  sinking  by  our  Saviour.  .  .  .  Nor  is  the  pavement  under 

^  Kugler  wrote  as  follows:  "For  the  ancient  basilica  of  S.  Peter, 
Giotto  executed  his  celebrated  mosaic  of  the  Navicella,  which  has  an 
allegorical  foundation.  It  represents  a  ship,  with  the  disciples,  on  an 
agitated  sea  ;  the  winds,  personified  as  demons,  storm  against  it ;  above 
appear  the  Fathers  of  the  Old  Testament  speaking  comfort  to  the  sufferers. 
According  to  the  early  Christian  symbolisation,  the  ship  denoted  the 
Church.  Nearer,  and  on  the  right,  in  a  firm  attitude,  stands  Christ,  the 
Rock  of  the  Church,  raising  Peter  from  the  waves.  Opposite  sits  a  fisher- 
man in  tranquil  expectation,  denoting  the  hope  of  the  believer.  The 
mosaic  has  frequently  changed  its  place,  and  has  undergone  so  many 
restorations  that  the  composition  alone  can  be  attributed  to  Giotto.  The 
fisherman  and  the  figures  hovering  in  the  air  are,  in  their  present  form, 
the  work  of  Marcello  Provenzale." 

2   B 


386  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

the  cupola  to  be  passed  over  without  observation,  which  with 
the  rest  of  the  body  and  walls  of  the  whole  Church,  are  all 
inlaid  with  the  richest  of  Pietra  Coni'essa,  in  the  most  splendid 
colours  of  polished  marbles,  agates,  serpentine,  porphyry, 
chalcedony,  etc.,  wholly  incrusted  to  the  very  roof.  Coming 
out  by  the  portico  at  which  we  entered,  we  were  shewn  the 
Porto  Santo,  never  opened  but  at  the  year  of  Jubilee. — 
Evelyn. 

Details  of  St.  Peter's 

The  Tomb  of  St.  Peter. — We  descended  by  a  double 
marble  staircase,  to  the  brazen  doors  of  the  Confession, 
or  Tomb  of  St.  Peter,  illuminated  by  more  than  a  hundred 
never-dying  lamps,  twinkling  unnecessarily  in  the  eye  of 
day;  but  within  the  sepulchre  all  is  dark,  and  the  tapers 
of  our  guides  revealed  its  splendour  very  imperfectly  to 
view.  We  entered  one  large,  and  four  smaller  subterranean 
chapels.  Pavements  of  beautiful  inlaid  marble  .  .  .  laborious 
gilt  paintings  .  .  .  and  a  profusion  of  other  ornaments,  richly 
adorn  the  interior ;  while  marble  sculpture,  and  bronze  bassi- 
relievi,  on  the  splendid  shrine  of  the  apostles,  represent  the 
great  miracles  of  their  lives.  .  .  .  This  holy  sepulchre  is 
surrounded  by  a  circular  vault,  which  is  lined  with  the  tombs 
of  popes,  saints  and  emperors,  besides  a  long  list  of  deposed 
or  abdicated  princes.  The  last  representatives  of  our  own 
unfortunate  Stuarts,  the  Emperor  Otho,  and  a  Queen  of 
Jerusalem,  are  buried  here.  .  .  .  Emerging  from  those  gloomy, 
magnificent  sepulchral  regions  of  darkness  and  death,  to  upper 
day,  we  stopped  to  survey  the  great  altar  which  stands  above  the 
Confession  of  St.  Peter.  .  .  .  Above  it  rises  the  baldacchino,  a 
gilded  and  brazen  canopy,  made  from  the  bronze  . .  .  plundered 
from  the  Pantheon  by  Urban  VIII. — Mrs.  Eaton. 

The  Image  of  St.  Peter. — The  grand  object  of  adoration 
is,  however,  the  image  of  St.  Peter  himself.  It  is  pretended 
that  he  is  no  other  than  old  Jupiter  Capitolinus  transformed 
into  the  saint ;  ^  at  all  events  he  was,  undoubtedly  and  con- 
fessedly, an  ancient  bronze  statue — either  a  god  or  a  consul — 

'  Mr.  Lowrie  {Christian  Archeology)  voices  the  opinion  of  many 
inquirers  who  believe  the  statue  to  be  an  early  Christian  work  and  not  an 
ancient  Roman  one.  Mrs.  Eaton  is  certainly  too  positive.  There  is  an 
alternative  view  that  the  statue  was  an  Italian  work  of  the  thirteenth 
century. 


ROME  387 

and  here  he  sits  in  state  with  the  modern  additions  of  a  glory 
on  his  head  and  a  couple  of  keys  in  his  hand,  holding  out  his 
toe  to  be  kissed  by  the  pious  multitude  who  continually  crowd 
around  it  for  that  purpose.  ...  If  I  were  to  name  a  point 
from  which  the  church  is  seen  to  the  best  advantage,  it  should 
be  nearly  from  this  very  statue  of  St.  Peter.  The  magnificent 
arches  and  crossing  aisles,  falling  into  beautiful  perspective, 
the  tombs,  the  statues,  the  altars,  retiring  into  shadowy  dis- 
tance more  powerfully  touch  the  imagination. — Ahs.  Eaton. 

Mausoleum  of  Matilda. — Among  the  number  of  its 
splendid  mausoleums,  all  raised  to  the  memory  of  pontiffs  and 
princes  of  the  Church,  or  to  enshrine  the  ashes  of  kings  and 
queens,  there  is  one  which  affords  a  striking  commentary  on 
the  text  of  this  mighty  edifice.  It  is  the  tomb  of  the  famous 
Countess  Matilda,  the  most  powerful  ally  the  Church  ever 
knew  ;  and  her  defence  of  the  Popes  and  their  system,  and 
the  bequest  of  her  valuable  patrimony  to  the  Church,  have 
obtained  for  her  a  monument  in  St.  Peter's,  to  which  her 
ashes  were  conveyed  from  Mantua  by  Pope  Urban  the  Eighth. 
Her  effigy  represents  a  stern  and  dogged-looking  woman,  one 
whose  strong  volition  might  have  passed  for  genius — she  holds 
the  papal  sceptre  and  tiara  in  one  hand,  and  in  the  other  the 
keys  of  the  Church  I  At  her  feet  lies  her  sarcophagus,  and  its 
relievos  form  the  precious  part  of  the  monument.  They 
represent  the  Emperor  Henry  the  Fourth  at  the  feet  of  Pope 
Gregory  the  Seventh,  where  Matilda  had  assisted  to  place  him. 
The  abject,  prostrate,  half-naked  Emperor,  surrounded  by 
Italian  Princes  and  ecclesiastical  Barons,  the  witnesses  of  his 
shame  and  degradation,  forms  a  fine  contrast  to  the  haughty 
and  all-powerful  Pope. — Lady  Morgati. 

The  Interior. — The  chief  monuments  are  placed  against 
the  pillars  in  the  nave.  These  monuments  are  of  great 
magnificence,  especially  those  of  Gregory  XI II.,  of  Queen 
Christina,  Leo  XL,  Innocent  XL  and  those  of  Paul  III.  and 
Urban  VIII.  The  floor  is  all  of  inlaid  marbles.  The  roof  is 
of  stucco  and  golden  mosaic.  The  arches  under  the  dome  are 
larger  than  a  half  circle,  and  bend  in  slightly  towards  the 
spring  of  the  arch,  an  effect  which  some  approve  of  and  others 
blame.  The  four  large  supports  of  the  central  dome  are  lined 
with  fluted  white  marble.  The  Evangelists  are  placed  in  the 
angle  above  the  cornice  beneath  the  dome.  Below  ,  .  .  runs 
a  great  circular  frieze  on  which  the  words  "  Tu  es  Petrus  ct 
super  banc  petram,"  etc.  etc.,  are  written  in  mosaic  on  a  gilt 


3S8  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

ground.  These  letters  are  four  and  a  half  feet  high.  Above 
the  frieze  the  dome  begins  to  rise.  It  is  entirely  covered  with 
mosaics.  At  the  top  is  a  circular  opening,  above  which  is  the 
lantern ;  this  is  terminated  by  a  high  brazen  ball  surmounted 
by  a  cross. — De  Brasses. 

Pap.\l  Ministrations. — When  the  pope  celebrates  divine 
service,  as  on  Easter  Sunday,  Christmas  Day,  Whit  Sunday, 
St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul,  etc.,  the  great  or  middle  doors  of  the 
church  are  thrown  open  at  ten,  and  the  procession  formed, 
.  .  .  preceded  by  a  beadle  carrying  the  papal  cross,  and  two 
others  bearing  lighted  torches,  enters  and  advances  slowly  in 
two  long  lines  between  two  ranks  of  soldiers  up  the  nave. 
This  majestic  procession  is  closed  by  the  pontiff  himself  seated 
in  a  chair  of  state  ^  supported  by  twenty  valets  half  concealed 
in  the  drapery  that  falls  in  loose  folds  from  the  throne ;  he  is 
crowned  with  his  tiara  and  bestows  his  benediction  on  the 
crowds  that  kneel  on  all  sides  as  he  is  borne  along.  When 
arrived  at  the  foot  of  the  altar  he  descends,  resigns  his  tiara, 
kneels,  and  assuming  the  common  mitre  seats  himself  in  the 
episcopal  chair  on  the  right  side  of  the  altar,  and  joins  in  the 
psalms  and  prayers  that  precede  the  solemn  service. — Eustace. 

Good  Friday  Observances. — To-day  I  am  just  come 
from  paying  my  adoration  at  St.  Peter's  to  three  extraordinary 
relics,  which  are  exposed  to  public  view  only  on  these  two 
days  in  the  whole  year,  at  which  time  all  the  confraternities  in 
the  city  come  in  procession  to  see  them.  It  was  something 
extremely  novel  to  see  that  vast  church,  and  the  most  magnifi- 
cent in  the  world,  undoubtedly,  illuminated  (for  it  was  night) 
by  thousands  of  little  crystal  lamps,  disposed  in  the  figure  of 
a  huge  cross  at  the  high  altar,  and  seeming  to  hang  alone  in 
the  air.  All  the  light  proceeded  from  this,  and  had  the  most 
singular  effect  imaginable  as  one  entered  the  great  door.  Soon 
after  came  one  after  another,  I  believe,  thirty  processions,  all 
dressed  in  linen  frocks,  and  girt  with  a  cord,  their  heads 
covered  with  a  cowl  all  over,  only  two  holes  to  see  through 
left.  Some  of  them  were  all  black,  others  red,  others  white, 
others  party-coloured  ;  these  were  continually  coming  and 
going  with  their  tapers  and  crucifixes  before  them  ;  and  to 
each  company,  as  they  arrived  and  knelt  before  the  great 
altar,  were  shewn  from  a  balcony,  at  a  great  height,  the  three 
wonders,  which  are,  you  must  know,  the  head  of  the  spear 

^  There  is  an  adiniraljle  sketch  of  a  papal  procession  by  Raphael  in 
the  Louvre. 


ROME  389 

that  wounded  Christ ;  St.  Veronica's  handkerchief,  with  the 
miraculous  impression  of  his  face  upon  it  ;  and  a  piece  of  the 
true  cross. — T.  Gray. 

Ceremonies. — Of  all  the  Roman  ceremonies  the  pontifical 
service  at  St.  Peter's  is  without  doubt  the  most  majestic ;  and 
if  we  add  to  it  the  procession  on  Corpus  Christi,  in  which  the 
Pope  bears  the  holy  sacrament  in  solemn  pomp  along  the 
colonnade  then  hung  according  to  the  ancient  fashion  with 
tapestry  and  graced  with  garlands,  we  shall  have  mentioned 
the  two  most  splendid  exhibitions  perhaps  to  be  seen  in  the 
universe. — Eustace. 

Confessionals.— Confessionals  in  every  living  language 
stand  in  St.  Peter's.  Spaniards,  Portuguese,  French,  English, 
Germans,  Hungarians,  Dutch,  Swedes,  Greeks  and  Armenians, 
here  find  a  ghostly  counsellor  ready  to  hear  and  absolve  in 
their  native  tongue.  At  stated  times  the  confessors  attend. 
...  All  had  long  wands,  like  fishing-rods,  sticking  out  of  the 
box.  The  people  passing  kneel  down  opposite  the  confessor, 
who  touches  their  head  with  his  yNdind.—Mrs.  Eaton. 

The  Vatican  Palace 

The  grand  entrance  is  from  the  portico  of  St.  Peter's  by 
the  Scala  Regia,  the  most  superb  staircase  perhaps  in  the 
world,  consisting  of  four  flights  of  marble  steps  adorned  with 
a  double  row  of  marble  Ionic  pillars.  This  staircase  springs 
from  the  equestrian  statue  of  Constantine  which  terminates  the 
portico  on  one  side  ;  and  whether  seen  thence,  or  viewed  from 
the  gallery  leading  on  the  same  side  to  the  colonnade,  forms 
a  perspective  of  singular  beauty  and  grandeur.  The  Scala 
Regia  conducts  to  the  Sala  Regia.  .  .  .  The  battle  of  Lepanto, 
in  which  the  united  fleet  of  the  Italian  powers  under  the  com- 
mand of  Don  John  of  Austria  and  under  the  auspices  of  Pius 
V.  defeated  the  Turks,  and  utterly  broke  their  naval  power 
.  .  .  forms  a  most  appropriate  ornament  to  the  Sala  Regia. 
...  At  one  end  of  the  Sala  Regia  is  the  Cappella  Paolina, 
so  called,  because  rebuilt  by  Paul  III.  The  altar  is  supported 
by  porphyry  pillars  and  bears  a  tabernacle  of  rock  crystal ;  the 
walls  are  adorned  with  various  paintings.  ^  ,  .  . 

Towards  the  other  end  of  the  hall,  on  the  left,  a  door  opens 
into  the  Cappella  Sistina   built  by  Sixtus  IV.    and  celebrated 

^  Among  them  two  frescoes  by  Michael  Angelo,  much  blackened,  how- 
ever, with  the  smoke  of  candles. 


390  THE  BOOK  OF   ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

for  its  paintings  in  fresco  by  Michael  Angelo  and  his  scholars. 
These  paintings  which  cover  the  walls  and  vaulted  ceilings, 
are  its  only  ornaments.  .  .  .  Opposite  the  Cappella  Sistina 
folding  doors  open  into  the  Sala  Ducale  remarkable  only  for 
its  size  and  simplicity.  Hence  we  pass  to  the  Loggie  di 
Raffaello,  a  series  of  open  galleries  in  three  stories,  lining  the 
three  sides  of  the  court  of  St.  Damasus.  ...  In  the  thirteen 
arcades  that  compose  this  wing  of  the  gallery  is  represented 
the  History  of  the  Old  and  part  of  the  New  Testament, 
beginning  with  the  Creation  and  concluding  with  the  Last 
Supper.  .  .  .  The  Camere  de  Raffaello  are  a  range  of  halls 
totally  unfurnished  and  uninhabited.  .  .  .  Two  antichambers 
large  and  painted  by  great  masters,  lead  to  the  first  hall  called 
the  Sala  di  Costantino,  because  adorned  with  the  grand  achieve- 
ments of  that  Christian  hero ;  and  thence  to  the  second 
Camera,  where  the  story  of  Heliodorus  from  the  Maccabees, 
the  interview  of  Pope  Leo  and  Attila,  the  miracle  of  Bolsena, 
and  above  all,  the  deliverance  of  St.  Peter  from  prison,  attract 
and  charm  the  eye.  Then  follow  the  third  Camera  with  the 
School  of  the  Philosophers,  the  Debate  of  the  Holy  Sacra- 
ment, the  Judgment  of  Solomon,  and  Parnassus  with  its 
groves  of  bays,  Apollo,  the  Muses  and  the  poets  whom  they 
inspired  :  and  the  fourth  with  the  Incendio  del  Borgo,  the 
triumph  of  Pope  Leo  over  the  Saracens  at  Ostia,  and  the 
Coronation  of  Charlemagne.  All  these  are  the  works  of 
Raffaello.  ^ 

After  having  traversed  the  court  of  St.  Damasus  and  its 
adjoining  halls  and  chapels,  which  may  be  considered  as  the 
state  apartments  of  the  Vatican,  the  traveller  passes  to  that 
part  of  the  palace  which  is  called  the  Belvidere  from  its  eleva- 
tion and  prospect,  and  proceeding  along  an  immeasurable 
gallery  comes  to  an  iron  door  on  the  left  that  opens  into  the 
library  of  the  Vatican.  ...  A  double  gallery  of  two  hundred 
and  twenty  feet  long  opening  into  another  of  eight  hundred, 
with  various  rooms,  cabinets  and  apartments  annexed,  form 
the  receptacle  of  this  noble  collection.  .  .  .  The  books  are 
kept  in  cases  ;  and  in  the  Vatican  the  traveller  seeks  in  vain 
for  that  pompous  display  of  volumes,  which  he  may  have  seen 
and  admired  in  other  libraries.  .  .  .  The  grand  gallery  which 
leads  to  the  library  terminates  in  the  Museum  Pio-Clementinum. 
Clement  XVI.  has  the  merit  of  having  first  conceived  the  idea 
of  this  museum  and  began  to  put  it  in  execution.  The  late 
'  The  art  is  described  in  our  extracts  from  Taine. 


ROME  391 

Pope  Pius  VI.  continued  it  on  a  much  larger  scale.  ...  It 
consists  of  several  apartments  .  .  .  some  lined  with  marbles, 
others  paved  with  ancient  mosaics,  and  all  filled  with  statues, 
vases,  candelabras,  tombs  and  altars. — E2istace. 

Evolution  ob'  Roman  Churches 

The  ancient  Roman  basilica,  used  for  the  purpose  of  their 
law-courts  and  as  a  rendez-vous  for  merchants  and  the  people, 
is  the  prototype  of  the  Christian  churches  :  accordingly  the 
seven  principal  cathedrals  in  Rome,  S.  Peter,  S.  John  Lateran, 
S.  Maria  Maggiore,  S.  Croce  in  Gerusalemme,  S.  Paolo  fuori 
le  Mura,  S.  Lorenzo,  and  S.  Sebastiano  are  called  Basilicas. 
The  area  of  the  interior  was  an  oblong,  terminating  with  a 
small  portion  elevated  a  few  steps  above  the  lower  level ;  and 
at  the  extremity  was  a  large  niche  or  absis,  in  the  centre  of 
which  the  prretor  or  presiding  magistrate  sat  in  his  chair  sur- 
rounded by  the  public  functionaries.  The  larger  portion  of 
the  area  towards  the  entrance  consisted  either  of  a  single  nave, 
or  three  naves,  or  five  naves,  divided  in  both  the  latter  cases 
by  columns  supporting  a  continuous  entablature  ;  and  above 
was  a  flat  ceiling.  .  .  .  The  Roman  churches  however  may 
perhaps  owe  a  more  ancient  origin  to  the  Pagan  temples.  .  .  . 
At  all  events  the  circular  temples  such  as  the  Pantheon  and 
the  Temple  of  Vesta,  the  former  of  which  was  adapted  to  the 
offices  Of  the  Roman  Catholic  church,  literally  without  any 
change  at  all,  having  evidently  furnished  the  model  of  the 
numerous  circular,  oval  and  octagonal  churches  at  present 
existing,  .  .  .  the  altars  too  of  the  Pagan  temples  have  been 
adopted  in  the  Roman  churches  with  little  alteration.  These 
may  be  said  to  be  of  two  varieties,  such  as  may  be  seen  exist- 
ing in  their  original  state  on  the  circumference  of  the  Pantheon  : 
one,  the  cedicula,  a  term  indicating  the  station  where  the 
ancients  used  to  place  the  statues  of  their  deities,  and  consist- 
ing of  an  altar-table  upon  the  wall,  protected  by  a  pediment 
supported  on  a  pair  of  columns  ;  and  the  other  similarly  pro- 
tected by  a  pediment  and  its  columns,  but  contained  within 
an  arched  or  rectangular  recess,  or  within  an  absis.  Another 
and  a  modern  variety  of  altar  also  in  use  in  the  modern 
churches  is  merely  an  altar-table  appended  to  the  wall, 
without  any  other  ornament  than  the  altar  picture,  with  which 
altars  of  every  description  in  Rome  are  almost  invariably 
surmounted.  .  .  . 


392  THE   BOOK    OF  ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

Among  the  various  appendages  which  (notwithstanding  the 
above-mentioned  characteristics  retained)  the  forms  and  cere- 
monies of  the  early  Christian  worship  rendered  necessary  to 
engraft  upon  the  basilica,  the  first  was  the  atrium  or  quad- 
rangle in  front  of  the  principal  entrance  and  gable.  The 
quadrangle  with  a  fountain  in  the  middle,  of  which  the  recep- 
tacle was  called  the  cantharus,  was  surrounded  by  a  portico 
for  the  convenience  of  those  penitents  or  neophytes  whose 
state  of  probation  was  not  sufficient  to  be  permitted  to 
advance  nearer  to  the  sanctuary.  Immediately  within  the 
entrance  of  the  church  there  was  also  a  portico,  called  the 
narthex,  appropriated  to  the  reception  of  the  neophyte  or 
catachumen  more  advanced  in  the  order  of  privileges  ;  and 
upon  the  walls  of  the  church  above,  encompassing  one,  two  or 
three  sides  of  the  building,  was  another  portico,  or  rather 
gallery,  for  the  convenience  of  women  exclusively.  The  choir 
or  presbytery,  perhaps  for  the  purpose  of  removing  it  from  the 
position  previously  occupied  by  the  6a/\.a/xos  ^  in  the  pagan 
temples,  was  at  first  constructed  on  a  quadrangular  area  in  the 
middle  of  the  nave,  and  enclosed  by  a  low  marble  balustrade, 
outside  of  which  upon  the  two  angles  towards  the  entrance  of 
the  church,  were  a  pair  of  marble  pulpits,  called  aftibones,  from 
one  of  which  was  read  the  epistle,  and  from  the  other,  dis- 
tinguished by  the  paschal  candlestick,  the.  gospel.  The  prac- 
tice, therefore,  of  having  two  pulpits,  which  has  grown  into  use 
of  late  years  in  our  English  churches,  proceeds  evidently  from 
this  origin.  Of  the  above-mentioned  distinctive  features  of  the 
primary  Christian  churches,  though  all  have  generally  dis- 
appeared for  many  centuries,  some  one  or  more  specimen  or 
specimens  of  each  are  yet  in  existence.  For  instance,  in  the 
church  of  S.  Clemente,  the  most  perfect  model  existing  as  well 
of  the  early  Christian  church  as  of  the  ancient  Roman  basilica, 
supposed  to  have  been  built  by  S.  Clement,  third  bishop  of 
Rome  in  succession  after  Peter  the  Apostle,  in  the  ninety-first 
year  of  the  Christian  era,  there  is  to  be  seen  in  perfect  pre- 
servation the  atrium  outside  the  building.  In  the  church  of 
S.  Clemente  also,  enclosed  in  the  middle  of  the  nave  by  a  low 
balustrade  of  marble,  is  the  choir  or  presbytery  in  the  position 
above  referred  to ;  and  also  outside  the  balustrade  a  pair  of 
marble  ambones,  and  in  front  of  the  one  on  the  left-hand  side, 
a  small  column  representing  the  paschal  candlestick.  The 
present  is  the  only  .specimen  in  Rome  of  such  a  choir  or 
'  The  elevated  portion  reserved  to  the  priests. 


ROME  393 

presbytery,  though  there  are  several  of  tlie  ambones,  of  which 
the  two  finest  pair  are — one  in  the  church  of  AracoeH,  and  the 
other  in  the  church  of  S.  Nereo  ed  Achilleo,  near  the  baths  of 
Caracalla.  .  .  .  There  is  also  in  the  church  of  S.  Clemente, 
upon  the  gable  wall  above  the  entrance,  one  of  the  ancient 
galleries  above-referred  to,  which  was  used  to  be  appropriated 
to  the  female  congregation.  A  better  specimen  of  such  a 
gallery  is  to  be  seen  in  the  church  of  S.  Agnese  fuori  le  Mura, 
where  it  encompasses  three  sides  instead  of,  as  here,  one  side 
of  the  building  only.  In  the  church  of  S.  Clemente  also,  in 
the  absis  at  the  extremity,  may  be  seen,  as  well  as  in  many 
others  of  the  early  churches,  an  episcopal  chair  of  marble.  In 
the  church  of  S.  Clemente  there  is  not  the  narthex  or  inner 
portico,  though  specimens  of  these  also  may  be  seen  in  the 
churches  of  S.  Silvestro  in  Capite,  S.  Maria  in  Acquiro,  S. 
Agnese  fuori  le  Mura,  S.  Anastasia,  and  S.  Lorenzo  in  Damaso, 
all,  with  the  exception  of  S.  Anastasia,  the  date  of  which  is 
unknown,  belonging  to  the  third  and  fourth  centuries. 

An  important  alteration  in  church  architecture,  the  addition 
of  the  square  brick  tower  or  belfry  to  the  front  gable  of  the 
basilica,  took  place  in  the  year  772,  when  Adrian  I.  annexed 
the  first  of  these  towers  ever  constructed  to  the  church  of 
S.  Francesca  Romana,  in  the  Forum  ;  and  such  appendages, 
built,  as  appears  by  several  that  remain  at  the  present  day,  on 
a  uniform  model  of  extraordinary  solidity,  were  applied  to  the 
Roman  churches  for  several  centuries  afterwards,  until  super- 
seded by  the  dome.  The  first  dome  of  the  modern  prolate 
form  was  erected  by  Sixtus  IV.  in  the  year  1483,  upon  the 
church  of  S.  Agostino,  and  the  model  has  since  been  adopted 
all  over  Europe.^ — Sir  G.  Head. 

St.  John  Later  an  {Basilica  a?id  Baptistery) 

This  church  is  the  regular  cathedral  of  the  bishop  of 
Rome,  and  as  such  assumes  the  priority  of  all  others,  and  the 

^  Any  scientific  classification  of  Roman  churches  is  impossible.  We 
have  first  taken  the  basilicas,  then  in  succession  those  whose  main  interest 
is  their  mosaic  work,  or  their  medireval  or  Renaissance  influence.  In  this 
arrangement  St.  Peter's  itself  would  come  very  late,  though  many  of  the 
earlier  churches  were  restored  after  its  completion.  The  ecclesiastical 
classification  was,  we  believe  :  (i)  chapels  and  charitable  foundations;  (2) 
national— served  by  officials  of  other  states;  (3)  parish  churches;  (4) 
slational  churches,  generally  built  on  some  martyr's  tomb  ;  (5)  cardinalist 
churches. 


394  THE  BOOK  OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

pompous  title  of  the  Parent  and  Mother  of  all  Churches, 
"  Ecclesiarum  urbis  et  orbis  mater  et  caput."  It  was  founded 
by  Constant! ne,  but  it  has  been  burnt,  ruined,  rebuilt  and 
frequently  repaired,  since  that  period.  Its  magnitude  cor- 
responds with  its  rank  and  antiquity,  and  the  richness  of  its 
decorations  are  equal  to  both.  The  Basilica,  like  that  of  Santa 
Maria  Maggiore,  has  two  porticoes.  That  which  presents 
itself  to  the  traveller  coming  from  the  latter  church,  consists  of 
a  double  gallery  one  above  the  other,  adorned  with  pilasters ; 
the  lower  range  Doric,  the  higher  Corinthian.  On  the  square 
before  this  portico  rises  a  noble  obelisk,  the  most  elevated  of 
its  kind.  From  its  pedestal  bursts  an  abundant  stream  that 
supplies  all  the  neighbouring  streets  with  water.  The  principal 
portico  faces  the  south ;  it  consists  of  four  lofty  columns  and 
six  pilasters.  The  order  is  Composite;  the  attic  is  adorned 
with  a  balustrade,  and  that  balustrade  with  statues.  A  double 
order  is  introduced  in  the  intervals  and  behind  this  frontis- 
piece, to  support  the  gallery  destined  to  receive  the  pontiff 
when  he  gives  his  solemn  benediction  ;  though  it  is  formed  of 
very  beautiful  pillars,  yet  it  breaks  the  symmetry  and  weakens 
the  effect  of  the  whole.  Other  defects  have  been  observed 
in  this  front,  and  the  height  of  the  pedestals,  the  heavy 
attic  with  its  balustrade,  and  the  colossal  statues  that  en- 
cumber it,  have  been  frequently  and  justly  criticised.  Yet 
with  all  these  defects  it  presents  a  very  noble  and  majestic 
appearance. 

The  vestibulum  is  a  long  and  lofty  gallery.  It  is  paved  and 
adorned  with  various  marbles.  Five  doors  open  from  it  into 
the  church,  the  body  of  which  is  divided  into  a  nave,  and  two 
aisles  on  each  side.  The  nave  is  intersected  by  a  transept,  and 
terminated  as  is  usual  by  a  semicircular  sanctuary.  There  are 
no  rails  nor  partitions ;  all  is  open,  and  a  few  steps  form  the 
only  division  between  the  clergy  and  the  people :  thus  the 
size  and  proportions  of  this  noble  hall  appear  to  the  best 
advantage.  Its  decorations  are  rich  in  the  extreme,  and  scat- 
tered with  profusion,  but  unfortunately  with  little  taste.  The 
nave  was  renewed  or  repaired  by  Borromini,  and  is  disfigured 
by  endless  breaks  and  curves,  as  well  as  overloaded  with  cum- 
bersome masses. 

The  church  was  anciently  supported  by  more  than  three 
hundred  antique  pillars,  and  had  the  same  plan  of  decoration 
been  adopted  in  its  reparation  as  was  afterwards  employed  at 
Santa  Maria  Maggiore,  it  would  probably  have  exhibited  the 


ROME  395 

grandest  display  of  pillared  scenery  now  in  existence.  But  the 
architect  it  seems  had  an  antipathy  to  pillars ;  he  walled  them 
up  in  the  buttresses,  and  adorned  the  buttresses  with  groups  of 
pilasters ;  he  raised  the  windows,  and  in  order  to  crown  them 
with  pediments,  broke  the  architrave  and  frieze,  and  even 
removed  the  cornice :  he  made  niches  for  statues,  and  topped 
them  with  crowns  and  pediments  of  every  contorted  form  ; 
in  short  he  has  broken  every  straight  line  in  the  edifice,  and 
filled  it  with  semicircles,  spirals,  and  triangles.  The  roof 
formed  of  wood,  though  adorned  with  gilding  in  profusion,  yet 
from  too  many  and  dissimilar  compartments  appears  heavy 
and  confused.  The  altar  is  small  and  covered  with  a  Gothic 
sort  of  tower,  said  to  be  very  rich,  and  certainly  very  ugly. 
The  statues  of  the  twelve  apostles,  that  occupy  the  niches  on 
each  side  of  the  nave  with  their  graceful  pillars  of  verde 
antico  (antique  green),  are  much  admired.  There  are  several 
columns  also  that  merit  particular  attention ;  among  these  we 
may  rank  the  antique  bronze  fluted  pillars  that  support  the 
canopy  over  the  altar  in  the  chapel  of  the  Santissimo  Sacra- 
mento. Some  suppose  that  these  pillars  belonged  to  the 
temple  of  Jupiter  Capitolinus ;  others  fancy  that  they  were 
brought  from  the  temple  of  Jerusalem  :  be  these  conjectures 
as  they  may,  the  columns  are  extremely  beautiful. 

The  various  chapels  of  this  church  deserve  attention,  either 
for  their  form  or  for  their  embellishments;  but  the  Corsini 
chapel  is  entitled  to  particular  consideration,  and  may  be  re- 
garded as  one  of  the  most  perfect  buildings  of  the  kind  existing. 
Inferior  perhaps  in  size,  and  more  so  in  splendour,  to  the 
Borghese  Chapel,  it  has  more  simplicity  in  its  form  and  more 
purity  in  its  decoration.  This  chapel  is  in  the  form  of  a  Greek 
Cross.  The  entrance  occupies  the  lower,  the  altar  the  upper 
part ;  a  superb  mausoleum  terminates  each  end  of  the  tran- 
sept ;  the  rail  that  separates  the  chapel  from  the  aisle  of  the 
church  is  gilt  brass ;  the  pavement  is  the  finest  marble ;  the 
walls  are  incrusted  with  alabaster  and  jasper,  and  adorned 
with  basso  rilievos ;  six  pillars  adorn  the  recesses,  the  two 
on  each  side  of  the  altar  are  verde  antico  ;  the  four  others  are 
porphyry,  their  bases  and  capitals  are  burnished  bronze.  The 
picture  over  the  altar  is  a  mosaic,  the  original  by  Guido. 
The  tombs  with  their  statues  are  much  admired,  particularly 
that  of  Clement  XII.,  the  Corsini  pontiff,  whose  body  reposes 
in  a  large  and  finely  proportioned  antique  sarcophagus  of 
porphyry.      Four   corresponding   niches  are  occupied  by  as 


396  THE  BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

many  statues,  representing  the  Cardinal  Virtues,  and  over  each 
niche  is  an  appropriate  l^asso  rilievo.  The  dome  that  canopies 
this  chapel,  in  itself  airy  and  well  lighted,  receives  an  additional 
lustre  from  its  golden  panels,  and  sheds  a  soft  but  rich  glow 
on  the  marble  scenery  beneath  it.  On  the  whole,  though  the 
Corsini  chapel  has  not  escaped  criticism,  yet  it  struck  me  as 
the  most  beautiful  edifice  of  the  kind  ;  splendid  without  gaudi- 
ness  ;  the  valuable  materials  that  form  its  pavement,  line  its 
walls  and  adorn  its  vaults,  are  so  disposed  as  to  mix  together 
their  varied  hues  into  soft  and  delicate  tints ;  while  the  size 
and  symmetry  of  its  form  enable  the  eye  to  contain  it  with  ease, 
and  contemplate  its  unity,  its  proportions,  and  its  ornaments, 
without  effort. 

The  Baptistery  of  St.  John  Lateran,  which  according  to  the 
custom  of  the  early  ages  still  observed  in  almost  all  the  cathe- 
drals of  Italy,  though  near  is  yet  detached  from  the  church,  is 
called  S.  Giovanni  in  Fonte,  and  is  the  most  ancient  of  the 
kind  in  the  Christian  world.  It  was  erected  by  Constantine, 
and  is  at  the  same  time  a  monument  of  the  magnificence  of  that 
emperor  and  the  bad  taste  of  the  age.  A  small  portico  leads 
into  an  octagonal  edifice,  in  the  centre  of  which  there  is  a  large 
basin  about  three  feet  deep,  lined  and  paved  with  marble. 
This  basin  is  of  the  same  form  as  the  building  itself;  at  its 
corners  stand  eight  beautiful  pillars,  which  support  eight  others 
of  white  marble.  .  .  .  There  are  two  chapels,  one  on  each 
side  of  the  Baptistery,  formerly  destined  for  the  instruction 
and  accommodation  of  the  catechumens.  In  this  chapel  only, 
and  only  upon  the  eves  of  Easter  and  Pentecost,  was  public 
baptism  administered  anciently  in  Rome.^ — Eustace. 

ScALA  Santa 

Opposite  to  the  great  entrance  of  the  palace  of  the  Lateran, 
stands  the  venerable  chapel  of  the  Scala  Santa  (holy  steps) 

^  In  his  well-known  book,  the  Holy  Roman  Empire,  Bryce  has  made 
special  reference  to  the  copy  of  the  mosaic  Lateran  triclinium  now  over 
the  facade  of  St.  John  Lateran.  This  mosaic  Bryce  considers  as  typical  of 
the  theory  of  the  medireval  empire  as  the  fresco  in  S.  M.  Novella.  The 
mosaic  represents  Christ  giving  their  mission  to  the  apostles,  and  again 
Christ  with  Pope  Sylvester,  and  Christ  with  the  Emperor  Constantine. 
To  one  he  gives  the  key  of  heaven,  the  other  the  banner  surmounted 
by  a  cross.  The  mosaic  is  of  particular  interest  when  we  remember 
Dante's  theory  of  the  proper  limits  of  the  power  of  Empire  and  Papacy 
respectively. 


ROME  397 

once  a  part  of  the  ancient  building.  This  chapel  is  the  shrine 
of  daily  pilgrimage  to  the  peasantry,  many  of  whom  were  as- 
cending its  holy  steps  on  their  knees,  on  the  several  days  that 
we  passed  by  it.  The  veneration  paid  to  this  flight  of  stairs 
arises  from  the  five  centre  steps  (said  to  be  part  of  the  staircase 
of  Pontius  Pilate's  house)  which  were  sanctified  by  the  blood 
of  Christ.  None  can  ascend  it  but  on  their  knees  ;  and  lateral 
steps  are  provided  for  those  whose  piety  may  not  lead  them  to 
this  painful  genuflexion. — Lady  Morgan. 

Sta.  Maria  Maggiore 

The  Basilica  Liberiana,  or  church  of  Santa  Maria  Maggiore, 
which  derives  its  former  appellation  from  Pope  Liberius,  in 
whose  time  it  was  erected,  its  latter,  from  its  size  and  magni- 
ficence, as  being  the  first  that  bears  the  appellation  of  the 
Blessed  Virgin.  It  is  said  to  have  been  founded  about  the 
year  350,  and  has  undergone  many  repairs  and  alterations 
since  that  period.  It  is  one  of  the  noblest  churches  in  the 
world,  and  well  deserves  an  epithet  of  distinction.  It  stands 
by  itself  on  the  highest  swell  of  the  Esquiline  hill,  in  the  midst 
of  two  great  squares  which  terminate  two  streets  of  near  two 
miles  in  length.  To  these  squares  the  Basilica  presents  two 
fronts  of  modern  architecture  and  of  different  decorations. 
The  principal  front  consists  of  a  double  colonnade,  one  over 
the  other,  the  lower  Ionic,  the  other  Corinthian  ;  before  it  on 
a  lofty  pedestal  rises  a  Corinthian  pillar  supporting  a  brazen 
image  of  the  Blessed  Virgin.  On  the  other  side,  a  bold  semi- 
circular front  adorned  with  pilasters  and  crowned  with  two 
domes,  fills  the  eye  and  raises  the  expectation.  Before  it, 
on  a  pedestal  of  more  than  twenty  feet  in  height,  stands  an 
Egyptian  obelisk  of  a  single  piece  of  granite  of  fifty,  terminat- 
ing in  a  cross  of  bronze.  These  accompaniments  on  each 
side  give  the  Basilica  an  air  of  unusual  grandeur,  and  it  must 
be  allowed  that  the  interior  is  by  no  means  unworthy  of  this 
external  magnificence. 

The  principal  entrance  is,  as  usual  in  all  the  ancient 
churches,  through  a  portico  ;  this  portico  is  supported  by  eight 
pillars  of  granite,  and  adorned  with  corresponding  marble  pila- 
sters. The  traveller  on  his  entrance  is  instantly  struck  with  the 
two  magnificent  colonnades  that  line  the  nave  and  separate  it 
from  the  aisle.  They  are  supported  each  by  more  than  twenty 
pillars,  of  which  eighteen  on  each  side  are  of  white  marble. 


398  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

The  order  is  Ionic  with  its  regular  entablature,  the  elevation 
of  the  pillars  is  thirty-eight  feet,  the  length  of  the  colonnade 
about  two  hundred  and  fifty.  The  sanctuary  forms  a  semi- 
circle behind  the  altar.  The  altar  is  a  large  slab  of  marble 
covering  an  ancient  sarcophagus  of  porphyry,  in  which  the 
body  of  the  founder  formerly  reposed.  It  is  overshadowed 
by  a  canopy  of  bronze,  supported  by  four  lofty  Corinthian 
pillars  of  porphyry.  This  canopy,  though  perhaps  of  too 
great  a  magnitude  for  its  situation,  as  it  nearly  touches  the 
roof,  is  the  most  beautiful  and  best  proportioned  ornament 
of  the  kind  which  I  ever  beheld.  The  side  walls  supported 
by  the  pillars  arc  divided  by  pilasters,  between  which  are 
alternately  windows  and  mosaics ;  the  pavement  is  variegated, 
and  the  ceiling  divided  into  square  panels,  double  gilt  and 
rich  in  the  extreme.  There  is  no  transept,  but  instead  of  it 
two  noble  chapels  open  on  either  side.  The  one  on  the  right 
as  you  advance  from  the  great  entrance  towards  the  altar,  was 
built  by  Sixtus  Quintus,  and  contains  his  tomb  :  it  would  be 
considered  as  rich  and  beautiful,  were  it  not  infinitely  sur- 
passed in  both  these  respects  by  the  opposite  chapel  belonging 
to  the  Borghese  family,  erected  by  Paul  V.  Both  these  chapels 
are  adorned  with  domes  and  decorated  with  nearly  the  same 
architectural  ornaments.  But  in  the  latter,  the  spectator  is 
astonished  at  the  profusion  with  which  not  bronze  and  marble 
only,  but  lapis-lazuli,  jasper,  and  the  more  precious  stones  are 
employed. — Eustace. 

Sta.  Croce  in  Gerusalemme 

Remarkable  only  for  its  antique  shape,  and  for  the  eight 
noble  columns  of  granite  that  support  its  nave.  Its  front  is 
modern,  of  rich  materials,  but  of  very  indifferent  architecture. 
The  semicircular  vault  of  the  sanctuary  is  adorned  with  paint- 
ings in  fresco,  which,  though  very  defective  in  the  essential 
parts,  yet  charm  the  eye  by  the  beauty  of  some  of  the  figures 
and  the  exquisite  freshness  of  the  colouring.  The  lonely 
situation  of  this  antique  basilica  amidst  groves,  gardens  and 
vineyards,  and  the  number  of  mouldering  monuments  and 
tottering  arches  that  surround  it,  give  it  a  solemn  and  affecting 
appearance. — Eustace. 

It  was  originally  built,  within  the  limits  of  the  gardens  of 
Heliogabalus,  called  the  Horti  Variani,  by  S.  Helena,  the 
mother  of  Constantine,  for  the  especial  purpose  of  preserving 


ROME  399 

a  sacred  relique,  said  to  be  a  portion  of  our  Saviour's  cross 
brought  from  Jerusalem ;  and  the  site  was  hallowed  by  earth 
transported  from  Mount  Calvary,  and  sprinkled  under  the 
church's  foundations.  ...  It  may  seem  extraordinary,  con- 
sidering the  importance  naturally  belonging  to  the  building 
under  the  above  circumstances,  that  from  the  time  of  its  con- 
secration by  S.  Silvester,  about  the  year  306,  the  accounts 
relating  to  it  for  many  centuries  afterwards  are  far  more  im- 
perfect than  of  very  many  ordinary  Roman  churches  ;  all  that 
I  find  recorded  of  it  is  in  fact,  with  the  exception  of  vague 
and  general  allusions  to  various  restorations,  that  it  was  rebuilt 
by  Gregory  II.  about  the  year  715,  and  again  by  Lucius  II. 
in  1 144,  and  finally,  that  having  been  conceded  by  Pius  VI., 
about  the  year  1560  to  the  congregation  of  Cistercian  monks, 
whose  convent  is  annexed  to  the  building  ...  it  was  put  in 
the  condition  it  appears  in  at  present.  .  .  .  The  basilica  is 
constructed  in  the  form  of  a  triple  nave,  divided  by  compound 
piers  faced  with  pilasters,  and  planted  so  as  to  comprise  three 
intercolumnial  spaces,  of  which  the  central  is  considerably 
narrower  than  the  two  others.  .  .  .  The  choir  or  tribune  is  in 
the  form  of  a  spacious  absis,  of  which  the  semidome  is  painted 
in  fresco  by  Pinturicchio,  on  a  subject  relating  to  the  dis- 
covery of  our  Saviour's  cross  at  Jerusalem  by  Sta.  Helena,  and 
in  colours,  among  which  sky-blue  predominates,  all  exceedingly 
vivid.  .  .  .  On  each  side  of  the  tribune  a  door  leads  from  the 
transept  to  a  crypt  under  the  basilica,  where  the  so-called 
fragment  of  our  Saviour's  cross,  from  which  the  title  "  Santa 
Croce  "  is  derived,  is  deposited,  though  no  person  is  permitted 
to  see  the  relique  without  the  Pope's  special  authority. — Sir 
G.  Head. 

San  Paolo  Fuori ^ 

The  patriarchal  Basilica  of  St.  Paul,  called  S.  Paolo  fuori 
delle  Mura,  at  some  distance  from  the  Porta  Ostiensis.  .  .  . 
It  was  finished  by  Theodosius  and  his  son  Honorius,  and 
afterwards,  when  shattered  by  earthquakes  and  time,  it  was 
repaired  first  by  Leo  III.,  and  again,  after  a  long  interval,  by 
Sixtus  Quintus.  vSuch  was  the  respect  which  the  public  enter- 
tained for  this  church,  and  so  great  the  crowds  that  flocked 
to  it,  that  the  emperors  above-mentioned  thought  it  necessary 
(if  we  may  believe  Procopius)  to  build  a  portico  from  the  gate 
to  the  Basilica,  a  distance  of  near  a  mile.  The  magnificence 
^  F'zeort,  i.e.  outside  the  city. 


400  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

of  this  porlico  seems  to  have  equalled  the  most  celebrated 
works  of  the  ancient  Romans,  as  it  was  supported  by  marble 
pillars  and  covered  with  gilt  copper.  But  whatsoever  may 
have  been  its  former  glory,  it  has  long  since  yielded  to  the 
depredations  of  age  or  barbarism,  and  sunk  into  dust  without 
leaving  even  a  trace  to  ascertain  its  former  existence.  The 
road  is  now  unfrequented,  and  the  church  itself,  with  the 
adjoining  abbey  belonging  to  the  Benedictine  monks,  is  almost 
abandoned  during  the  summer  months  on  account  of  the  real 
or  imaginary  unwholesomeness  of  the  air. 

The  exterior  of  this  edifice,  like  that  of  the  Pantheon, 
being  of  ancient  brick,  looks  dismal  and  ruinous.  The  portico 
is  supported  by  twelve  pillars,  and  forms  a  gallery  or  vestibulum 
lofty  and  spacious.  The  principal  door  is  of  bronze  ;  the  nave 
and  double  aisles  are  supported  by  four  rows  of  Corinthian 
pillars,  amounting  in  all  to  the  number  of  eighty.  Of  these 
columns,  four  -  and  -  twenty  of  that  beautiful  marble  called 
pavonazzo  (because  white  tinged  with  a  delicate  purple),  and 
the  most  exquisite  workmanship  and  proportions,  were  taken 
from  the  tomb  of  Adrian  (Caste/  S.  Angela).  The  transept, 
or  rather  the  walls  and  arches  of  the  sanctuary,  rest  upon  ten 
other  columns,  and  thirty  more  are  employed  in  the  decora- 
tion of  the  tomb  of  the  Apostle  and  of  the  altars.  These 
pillars  are  in  general  of  porphyry,  and  the  four  that  support 
the  central  arches  are  of  vast  magnitude.  Two  flights  of 
marble  steps  lead  from  the  nave  to  the  sanctuary :  the  pave- 
ment of  this  latter  part  is  of  fine  marble ;  that  of  the  former, 
of  shattered  fragments  of  ancient  tombs  marked  with  inscrip- 
tions. The  altar  stands  under  a  canopy  terminated  by  an 
awkward  Gothic  pyramid ;  the  circumference  of  the  sanctuary 
is  adorned  with  some  very  ancient  mosaics.  The  walls  of  the 
nave  and  centre  rest  on  arches  carried  from  pillar  to  pillar ; 
those  of  the  nave  are  high  and  covered  with  faded  paintings. 
The  length  of  the  church  is  about  three  hundred  feet,  its 
breadth  about  one  hundred  and  fifty,  and  from  its  magnitude, 
proportions,  and  materials,  it  undoubtedly  furnishes  all  the 
means  requisite,  if  properly  managed,  of  rendering  it  one  of 
the  most  noble,  and  perhaps  one  of  the  most  beautiful,  churches 
in  the  world.  As  it  is,  it  presents  a  very  exact  copy  of  its 
ancient  state,  for  it  seems  to  have  suffered  considerable  damage 
almost  as  soon  as  finished,  from  the  wars,  alarms,  and  devasta- 
tions that  commenced  in  the  reign  of  Honorius,  and  continued 
during  several  successive  centuries. — Eustace. 


ROME  401 


San  Lorenzo  Fuori 

Constantine  the  Great  erected  this  basilica  above  the  tomb 
of  the  martyred  San  Lorenzo,  who,  you  will  remember,  was 
broiled  to  death  upon  a  gridiron  at  Rome,  and  of  St.  Stephen, 
the  first  martyr,  who  was  stoned  to  death  at  Jerusalem  ;  though 
how  his  body,  which  was  buried  at  that  place  by  devout  men, 
came  to  be  deposited  here,  is  not  clearly  explained.  This 
basilica  was  for  the  most  part  rebuilt  in  the  sixth  and  it  is 
beheved,  in  the  eighth  century  also  ;  and  the  internal  part, 
containing  the  confession,  or  tomb  of  the  saint,  alone  remains 
of  the  original  erection.  It  is  distinguished  by  ten  magnificent 
columns  of  pavonazetto  marble,  buried  nearly  to  the  top  of 
their  shafts  below  the  pavement  of  this  vile  old  church.  The 
capitals  of  two  of  them  are  composite,  adorned  with  sculptured 
trophies,  instead  of  foliage;  the  rest  are  Corinthian.  They 
support  a  second  order  of  mean  little  columns ;  and  a  gallery, 
which  was  customary  in  all  the  earUest  churches,  as  well  as  in 
the  Roman  Basilica.  The  marble  pulpits  or  reading-desks 
stand  on  each  side  of  the  church.  On  the  right-hand  side, 
in  walking  up  the  nave,  is  the  Ionic  column  with  a  frog  and 
a  lizard  sculptured  on  the  capital,  which  Winckelmann  and  all 
the  critics  after  him,  declare  to  be  the  identical  column  that 
Pliny  says  was  so  marked  by  the  two  Spartan  architects, 
Battrocus  and  Saurus,  to  perpetuate  their  names ;  and  con- 
sequently it  must  have  been  brought  here  from  the  Temple  of 
Jove,  in  the  Portico  of  Octavia. 

There  are  two  Christian  tombs  in  this  church,  adorned 
with  Bacchanalian  images ;  one  is  behind  the  altar,  and 
another,  representing  the  vintage,  is  near  the  door.  Imme- 
diately on  the  right  of  the  door,  on  entering,  there  is,  however, 
a  far  more  beautiful  sarcophagus,  which  contains  the  bones  of 
an  old  cardinal,  adorned  with  a  Roman  Marriage,  sculptured 
in  bas-relief.  You  see  the  propitiatory  sacrifice— the  bride- 
groom and  the  bride,  attended  by  her  train  of  paranymphce  or 
bride-maids,  united  by  the  Genius  of  Love;  and  above  all, 
the  assembled  deities  that  bless  or  prosper  the  marriage  state. 
By  way  of  a  specimen  of  the  fine  arts  of  a  later  and  lower 
period,  in  the  mosaic  pavements  in  the  middle  of  the  church, 
you  will  see  two  Roman  soldiers,  of  the  barbarous  ages,  on 
horseback — most  extraordinary  figures  ! — or  better  still,  ad- 
mire in  the  external  portico  of  the  church  some  fresco  paint- 

2  C 


402  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

ings  nearly  washed  out,  representing,  amongst  other  things, 
the  Pope  and  Cardinals,  apparently  warming  themselves  by 
the  flames  of  purgatory,  and  the  souls  burning  in  them,  some 
of  which  are  lifted  up  by  the  hair  of  the  heads,  by  black 
angels  in  red  petticoats,  looking  thoroughly  singed.  This 
exquisite  composition  is  in  commemoration  of  the  privilege 
enjoyed  by  one  particular  subterranean  chapel  in  this  church, 
of  liberating  the  souls  in  purgatory — for  money. — Mrs.  Eaton. 

San  Sebastiano  Fuori 

Some  say  it  was  built  by  Constantine,  and  it  is  supposed  at 
all  events  to  have  had  its  origin  in  the  third  or  the  beginning 
of  the  fourth  century,  and  to  be  situated  on  the  site  of  the 
cemetery  constructed  by  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  Callixtus  I., 
about  the  year  218,  in  which  cemetery  S.  Sebastian  was  buried. 
.  .  .  With  regard  to  the  exterior  appearance,  though  holding 
rank  among  the  seven  Roman  basilicas,  it  is  inferior  to  some 
of  the  ordinary  churches  in  magnitude,  and  the  frontage 
hardly  exceeds  the  breadth  of  sixty  feet.  The  entrance  is 
through  a  portico  supported  by  three  round-topped  arches 
springing  from  columns,  of  which  two  pairs  are  of  red  granite 
and  one  pair  granito  del  foro.  The  interior  is  constructed  in 
the  form  of  a  single  nave,  the  only  instance  of  a  single  nave 
among  the  seven  basilicas.  .   .  . 

From  the  nave  of  the  basilica,  by  a  portal  from  either  side, 
there  is  a  descent  to  the  catacombs  of  S.  Callixtus,  who  is 
said  to  be  the  first  of  the  bishops  of  Rome  who,  at  the  com- 
mencement of  the  reign  of  Alexander  Severus,  converted  to 
the  purpose  of  public  cemeteries  these  extraordinary  subter- 
-raneous  passages,  which  are  supposed  to  have  been  excavated 
in  the  first  instance  by  the  early  Romans  for  the  purpose  of 
digging  pozzolana  for  their  buildings.  .  .  .  The  catacombs  on 
the  present  spot  are  considered  the  most  extensive  of  all 
others  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Rome,  comprehending  a 
regular  series  of  underground  passages  communicating  one 
witli  another,  it  is  said,  to  the  extraordinary  and  even  in- 
credible distance  of  six  miles  ;  it  is  moreover  generally  affirmed 
by  the  church  authorities  that  no  less  than  fourteen  bishops 
and  one  hundred  and  seventy  thousand  martyrs  were  buried 
here  at  different  periods.  By  traditional  accounts  of  the 
Roman  Catholic  Church  the  bodies  of  St.  Peter  and  St.  Paul 
were   also   originally   deposited   here,  though   removed  after- 


ROME  403 

wards,  one  to  the  celebrated  sepulchre  under  the  dome  of  St. 
Peter's,  and  the  other  to  the  cemetery  of  a  Roman  matron,  St. 
Lucina,  adjacent  to  the  Basilica  di  St.  Paolo  on  the  banks  of 
the  Tiber.— ^/r  G.  Head. 


San  Clemente 

The  church  of  St.  Clement,  in  the  great  street  that  leads  to 
St.  John  Lateran,  is  the  most  ancient  church  in  Rome.  It  was 
built  on  the  site,  and  was  probably  at  first  one  of  the  great 
apartments  of  the  house  of  the  holy  bishop  whose  name  it 
bears.  It  is  mentioned  as  ancient  by  authors  of  the  fourth 
century  (St.  Jerome,  Pope  Zozimus,  etc.),  and  is  justly  con- 
sidered as  one  of  the  best  models  that  now  exist  of  the 
original  form  of  Christian  churches.  It  has  frequently  been 
repaired  and  decorated,  but  always  with  a  religious  respect  for 
its  primitive  shape  and  fashion.  In  front  of  it  is  a  court  with 
galleries,  supported  by  eighteen  granite  pillars,  and  paved  with 
pieces, of  shattered  marbles,  among  which  I  observed  several 
fragments  of  beautiful  verde  antico.  The  portico  of  the  church 
is  formed  of  four  columns  of  the  same  materials  as  the  pillars 
of  the  gallery,  and  its  interior  is  divided  into  a  nave  and  aisles 
by  twenty  pillars  of  various  marbles.  The  choir  commences 
about  the  centre  of  the  nave,  and  extends  to  the  steps  of  the 
sanctuary  ;  there  are  two  pulpits,  called  anciently  Ambones,  one 
on  each  side  of  the  choir.  A  flight  of  steps  leads  to  the 
sanctuary  or  chancel,  which  is  terminated  by  a  semicircle,  in 
the  middle  of  which  stands  the  episcopal  chair,  and  on  each 
side  of  it  two  marble  ranges  of  seats  border  the  walls  for  the 
accommodation  of  the  priests ;  the  inferior  clergy  with  the 
singers  occupied  the  choir.  In  front  of  the  episcopal  throne, 
and  between  it  and  the  choir,  just  above  the  steps  of  the 
sanctuary,  rises  the  altar  unencumbered  by  screens  and  con- 
spicuous on  all  sides.  The  aisles  terminated  in  two  recesses 
now  used  as  chapels,  called  anciently  Exedrce  or  Ceilce,  and 
appropriated  to  private  devotion  in  prayer  or  meditation. 
Such  is  the  form  of  St.  Clement's,  which  though  not  originally 
a  basilica,  is  evidently  modelled  upon  such  buildings ;  as  may 
be  seen  not  only  by  the  description  given  of  them  by  Vitruvius, 
but  also  by  several  other  churches  in  Rome,  which  having 
actually  been  basilicae,  still  retain  their  original  form  with 
slight  modifications.  The  same  form  has  been  retained  or 
imitated  in  all  the  great  Roman  churches,   and   indeed   in 


404  THE   BOOK    OF    ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

almost  all  the  cathedral  and  abbey  churches  in  Italy ;  a  form 
without  doubt  far  better  calculated  both  for  the  beauty  of 
perspective  and  for  the  convenience  of  public  worship  than 
the  arrangement  of  Gothic  fabrics,  divided  by  screens,  insulated 
by  partitions,  and  terminating  in  gloomy  chapels. — Eustace. 

Sta.  Agnese 

The  Church  of  St.  Agnes  was  built  on  the  level  of  the 
Catacombs  in  which  the  body  of  the  saint  was  found,  con- 
sequently a  considerable  depth  below  the  surface  of  the  earth  ; 
and  you  descend  into  it  by  a  marble  staircase.  .  .  .  The 
interior  of  the  Church  of  St.  Agnes,  more  than  any  other, 
preserves  the  form  of  the  ancient  civil  basilica.  The  three 
naves,  separated  by  sixteen  ancient  marble  columns,  and  the 
form  of  the  tribune  at  the  top,  beneath  which  the  great  altar 
now  stands  and  the  judge  formerly  sat,  may  be  distinctly  seen 
in  most  of  the  old  Roman  churches ;  but  the  peculiarity  of 
this  is  the  gallery,  which  was  occupied  by  the  audience  in  the 
Pagan  Basilica,  and  by  the  women  in  the  religious  assemblies 
of  the  early  Christians, — a  custom,  by  the  way,  still  in  use 
among  the  Jews  ;  at  least  in  the  only  one  of  their  synagogues  I 
ever  entered,  that  at  Rome. — Mrs.  Eaton. 

SS.  Cosmo  e  Damiano 

The  church  was  erected  in  the  year  521,  by  Pope  Felix  IV. 
.  .  .  there  are,  however,  no  subsequent  accounts  of  the  church 
till  the  reign  of  Urban  VIII.,  who  about  the  year  1630  rebuilt 
it,  at  the  same  time  raising  the  pavement  on  account  of  the 
humidity  of  the  spot.  .  .  .  The  entrance  from  the  vestibule  to 
the  church  is  through  a  circular  arch  of  very  considerable 
depth,  on  each  of  the  plain  and  whitewashed  sides  of  which  is 
engrafted  an  object  which  ...  is  of  ordinary  occurrence  in 
the  Roman  churches,  called  a  martyr's  weight,  or  Lapis 
Martynim.  .  .  .  Those  in  question,  in  size  about  twice  the 
bigness  of  a  man's  head,  are  supposed  to  have  been  fastened 
to  the  necks  of  Saints  Cosmus  and  Damianus,  when  both 
the  martyrs  were  thrown  into  the  Tiber  in  the  reign  of 
Maximian.  .  .  . 

At  the  extremity  of  the  church,  the  choir  immediately  at 
the  entrance  of  which  stands  the  isolated  high  altar,  is  er- 
presented   by   a   broad    and    magnificent   absis,    an    original 


ROME  405 

portion  of  the  church  built  by  Pope  Felix  IV.,  of  which  the 
semidome  is  lined  with  curious  mosaic  of  the  sixth  century, 
executed  in  a  coarse  style,  indicative  of  the  state  of  the  arts  at 
the  period,  but  which,  notwithstanding  the  apparently  careless 
mechanical  arrangement  of  the  mosaic  fragments  is  extraor- 
dinarily effective.  The  subject  is  Our  Saviour,  the  Good 
Shepherd  and  the  Apostles,  the  latter  represented  by  twelve 
sheep  the  size  of  nature,  and  thrown  into  such  bold  relief  that 
they  seem  like  living  ones.  ...  On  the  left-hand  side  of  the 
high  altar  is  a  door  leading  by  a  flight  of  steps  to  the  crypt.  .  .  . 
Here,  not  far  from  the  entrance,  the  body  of  Pope  Felix,  the 
founder  of  the  church,  or  St.  Felix  as  is  his  designation,  was 
discovered. — Sir  G.  Head. 


Sta.  Maria  in  Trastevere 

The  church  is  supposed  to  have  been  originally  built  in 
the  form  of  a  small  oratory,  about  the  year  222,  by  the  Bishop 
of  Rome,  CalUxtus  I.,  on  ground  conceded  by  Alexander 
Severus  for  the  especial  use  of  the  Christians,  a  spot  where  an 
ancient  hospital  for  invalided  soldiers,  called  the  Taberna 
Meritoria,  had  stood  previously.  The  building  of  Callixtus, 
at  all  events,  was  the  first  place  of  public  worship  ever  estab- 
lished in  Rome  by  the  Christians.  It  was  rebuilt  in  the  year 
340  by  the  bishop,  Julius  I.,  and  restored  in  707  by  John  VII. ; 
also  between  the  years  715  and  741  by  Gregory  II.  and 
Gregory  III. ;  by  Adrian  I.  about  the  year  772,  and  by  Bene- 
dict III.  about  the  year  855  ;  by  Innocent  II.  in  the  year 
1 139  ;  and  about  the  year  1447  Nicholas  V.  put  it  in  the  form 
it  bears  at  present,  after  the  designs  of  the  architect  Bernardino 
RosseUini,  wath  the  exception,  however,  of  the  portico,  which 
was  added,  about  the  year  1700,  by  Clement  XL  With  regard 
to  the  exterior,  the  portico  is  supported  by  five  round-topped 
arches  that  spring  from  four  columns  of  granito  del  foro,  and 
its  flat  roof  is  protected  by  a  balcony.  The  fa9ade  of  the 
church  that  rises  in  the  rear  of  the  portico  is  a  remarkably  low 
gable,  to  which  is  annexed  a  square  brick  tower  of  the  middle 
ages  ;  the  entablature  of  the  gable  is  covered  with  mosaics 
executed  in  the  time  of  Innocent  II.,  in  the  twelfth  century, 
representing  the  five  wise  virgins,  together  with  the  Madonna 
and  the  infant  Saviour.  The  portico  in  its  interior  is  broad 
and  spacious,  and  upon  the  walls  are  engrafted  a  considerable 
-number  of  interesting  ancient  inscriptions. 


4o6  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

The  church  is  constructed  in  the  form  of  a  triple  nave, 
divided  by  ancient  granite  columns.  .  .  .  The  capitals,  with 
the  exception  of  four  Corinthian,  are  Grecian  Ionic,  supposed 
to  have  belonged  to  the  Temple  of  Isis  and  Serapis,  inasmuch 
as  there  are  to  be  observed  interpolated  in  the  volutes,  which 
are  extremely  highly  wrought,  figures  of  Isis,  Serapis  and  Har- 
pocrates.  .  .  .  The  transept  is  elevated  by  a  flight  of  seven 
steps.  ...  In  front  of  the  main  arch  ...  is  a  monument,  of 
which  the  principal  objects  are  a  marble  bas-relief  representing 
the  annunciation  of  the  Holy  Virgin,  surmounted  by  a  curious 
piece  of  mosaic  executed  in  the  ancient  style  in  very  small 
pieces  representing  a  marine  landscape,  including  fishing- 
vessels,  water-fowls. — Sir  G.  Head. 

S.  Gregorio 

The  spot  where  the  church  and  convent  now  stand  was 
originally  the  site  of  the  paternal  domicile  of  Gregory  the 
Great.  .  .  .  Gregory  having  become  a  monk  .  .  .  and  subse- 
quently having  been  raised  to  the  papal  chair  in  the  year  590, 
the  church  originally  dedicated  to  him  under  the  present  title 
was  built  after  his  death,  at  a  period  not  precisely  defined.  .  .  . 
The  first  restoration  that  is  recorded  is  the  rebuilding  of  the 
portico  in  the  year  1633  by  the  architect  Gio.  Battista  Soria, 
at  the  private  expense  of  Cardinal  Scipio  Borghese.  After- 
wards the  church  was  thoroughly  restored  in  the  year  1734  by 
the  architect  Francesco  Ferrari,  at  the  expense  of  the  monks 
who  at  that  time  inhabited  the  convent.  .  .  .  The  paintings, 
chiefly  relating  to  circumstances  in  the  life  of  Gregory  the 
Great  comprise  an  interesting  display  of  costume  at  their  early 
period  of  the  Christian  church.  .  .  .  The  original  cell  that 
Gregory  the  Great  occupied  is  ...  a  very  small  cell,  of  which 
the  dimensions  are  about  6  feet  by  10  feet  in  area,  and  of 
height  corresponding.  There  is  also  to  be  observed  .  .  .  the 
original  pontifical  chair  of  Gregory. — Sir  G-  Head. 

Sta.  Sabina 

The  church  .  .  .  supposed  to  stand  on  the  site  of  the 
temple  of  Juno  Regina  .  .  .  occupies  also  the  spot  where  the 
paternal  residence  of  the  saint  to  whom  it  is  dedicated  was 
situated.     It  was  originally  built   by  an   Illyrian  priest  .  .   , 


ROME  407 

in  the  reign  of  the  Bishop  of  Rome,  Celestine.  In  the  year 
824  it  was  restored  by  Eugenius  II.,  and  was  afterwards  rebuilt 
and  reconsecrated  in  1238  by  Gregory  IX.  In  15 41  it  was 
again  restored  and  embellished  by  Cardinal  Cesarini,  and 
further  redecorated  by  Sixtus  V.  in  1587.  .  .  .  The  interior 
is  constructed  in  the  form  of  a  triple  nave,  divided  by  remark- 
ably fine  Corinthian  columns  of  Hymettian  marble,  supposed 
to  have  belonged  to  the  ancient  Temple.  .  .  .  The  pavement 
is  composed  partly  of  red  tiles,  partly  of  stripes  of  marble.  .  .  . 
There  is  to  be  observed  in  the  middle  of  the  area  a  short 
spirally  fluted  column  of  white  marble  three  or  four  feet  in 
height,  on  which  is  placed  a  martyr's  weight  of  the  ordinary 
form  and  material ;  and  at  the  foot  of  the  column  is  a  slab  of 
marble  containing  an  inscription  that  serves  to  mark  the  spot 
where  S.  Dominic,  the  founder  of  the  order  of  Dominicans, 
used  to  kneel  down  and  pray.  .  .  .  The  original  cell  of  St. 
Dominic  in  the  annexed  convent  of  Dominicans  is  .  .  .  about 
ten  feet  square,  the  ceiling  flat  and  composed  of  unpainted 
board  and  rafters,  and  the  side  walls  on  the  right  and  on  the 
left  plain  and  unwashed.  Opposite  the  entrance  is  a  small 
primitive-looking  altar,  faced  with  marble  inlaid  in  an  arabesque 
pattern,  with  the  exception  of  a  circular  tablet  of  seme  santo 
for  a  central  ornament.  The  altar-picture  is  a  portrait  of  S. 
Dominic.^— ^/V  G.  Head. 

Sta.  Maria  degli  Angeli 

The  church  .  .  .  was  originally  constructed  about  the 
year  1560  by  Pius  IV.,  who  employed  Michael  Angelo,  then 
in  the  eighty-sixth  year  of  his  age,  to  appropriate  to  the  pur- 
pose the  magnificent  oblong  chamber  belonging  to  the  baths, 
called  the  Pinnacotheka,  then  remaining  covered  with  its 
original  roof  in  excellent  preservation.  The  present  appear- 
ance of  the  church,  however,  although  the  plan  of  a  Greek 
cross  adopted  by  Michael  Angelo  has  been  adhered  to,  is  to  be 
attributed  principally  to  the  architect  Vanvitelli,  who,  in  the 
year  1749,  in  the  reign  of  Benedict  XIV.,  made  very  con- 
siderable improvements.  .  .  .  The  frontage  of  the  whole 
exterior  ...  is  so  exceedingly  plain  and  unpretending,  not- 
withstanding that  the  church  is  the  most  beautiful  perhaps 

^  The  carved  wood  doors  of  Sta,  Sabinaare  of  the  fifth  century  and  shew 
the  transition  from  the  emblematic  art  of  the  catacombs  to  the  more  living 
art  of  the  basilicas. 


4o8  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

of  any  of  the  Roman  churches  in  the  interior,  that  hardly  any 
resemblance  to  the  form  of  a  church  can  be  said  to  belong  to 
it,  but  it  rather  resembles  a  very  ordinary  fagade  of  a  private 
dwelling.   .  .  . 

Passing  through  the  segment  arch,  whose  ample  span  forms 
a  most  imposing  entrance  from  the  nave  of  the  church  into 
the  transept,  we  enter  at  once,  at  the  middle  of  the  western 
flank,  into  the  pinnacotheka  of  the  baths  of  Dioclesian,  meta- 
morphosed, it  is  true,  into  a  Christian  place  of  worship,  but 
still  retaining,  w'ithout  any  material  alteration  or  infringement, 
its  original  character.  This  celebrated  chamber,  taken  as  at 
present,  is  in  length,  from  altar  to  altar  at  each  extremity, 
406  palms,  or  296^  feet ;  in  breadth,  90  feet ;  and  in  height, 
to  the  centre  of  the  vaulted  ceiling,  90  feet.  The  original 
ceiling,  of  Dioclesian,  which  has  already  existed  for  sixteen 
centuries,  ...  is  still  capable,  as  far  as  human  eye  can  per- 
ceive, of  enduring  many  more.  .  .  .  The  pavement,  of  inlaid 
marble,  is  the  finest  to  be  seen  in  Rome,  with  the  exception 
of  the  new  pavement  of  St.  Paolo  fuori  le  Mura,  and  of  St. 
Peter's,  though  the  latter,  owing  to  the  continual  traffic  in  the 
Basilica,  is  in  appearance  much  inferior.  The  whole  vast  area 
presents  to  the  eye  one  splendid  polished  surface  of  marble 
of  various  descriptions  and  brilliant  colours,  disposed  in  all 
manner  of  figures  and  forms,  curvilinear  and  rectilinear,  all 
subsidiary  and  contributing  to  the  main  design,  which,  like  a 
colossal  carpet  is  surrounded  by  a  broad  border.  ^ — Sir  G-  Head. 

Sta.  Prassede 

The  titular  saint  of  the  church,  S.  Praxides  or  Prassede, 
was  the  daughter  of  the  senator  Pudens,  in  whose  house, 
according  to  the  traditions  of  the  Roman  church,  the  apostle 
S.  Peter  lived  as  a  lodger,  and  the  sister  of  S.  Pudentiana. 
.  .  .  The  church  was  originally  built  about  the  year  822,  by 
Paschal  L,  after  which  period  I  find  no  account  of  the  restora- 
tions until  the  reign  of  Nicholas  V.,  who  repaired  it  about  the 
year  1450  ;  and  it  was  afterwards  embellished  and  put  in  the 
form  and  condition  it  is  in  at  present  by  the  celebrated  cardinal 
more  commonly  known  by  the  title  of  S.  Carlo  Borromeo. 
.  .  .  Within  is  a  wooden  figure  painted  in  natural  colours, 

1  The  church  also  contains  Domenichino's  Martyrdom  of  S.  Sebastian, 
originally  painted  in  fresco  in  St.  Peter's,  but  removed  hither  by  the  archi- 
tect Zabaglia. 


ROME  409 

representing  S.  Prassede  on  her  knees  in  the  act  of  squeezing 
a  sponge  saturated  with  the  blood  of  Christian  martyrs  into 
a  basin,  in  allusion  to  the  practice  by  which  S.  Prassede,  to- 
gether with  her  sister  Pudentiana,  according  to  the  tradition 
of  the  Roman  Church,  used  to  collect  the  bodies  of  all  the 
Christians  they  could  find  who  had  suffered  martyrdom,  and 
having  consigned  the  remains  to  the  earth,  mingle  the  blood 
of  the  faithful  all  together  in  the  holy  well.  ...  On  the 
southern  gable  wall,  on  the  right  hand  of  the  entrance,  there 
is  to  be  observed  an  .  .  .  inscription  on  a  marble  tablet,  re- 
lating to  the  remains  of  no  less  than  10,300  martyrs,  deposited 
underneath  the  church  at  the  beginning  of  the  ninth  century 
by  Paschal  I.^ — Sir  G.  Head. 

S.  Stefano  Rotundo 

The  church  of  S.  Stefano  Rotundo,  though  mistaken  by 
the  antiquaries  ...  for  several  different  ancient  buildings,  is 
generally  believed,  principally  on  the  authority  of  Anastatius, 
to  have  been  built  about  the  year  470  by  Pope  Simplicius, 
though  there  are  no  accounts  of  its  history  subsequently  until 
Nicholas  V.,  finding  it  in  an  extremely  dilapidated  state,  re- 
stored it  about  the  year  1450,  since  which  period,  propped  up 
rather  than  rebuilt,  the  form  and  condition  at  all  events  in 
which  it  was  then  left  has  never  been  altered.  As  regards  its 
present  appearance,  and  first  of  the  exterior,  which,  as  the 
name  imports,  is  circular,  the  building  consists  of  two  concen- 
tric circular  brick  walls  of  exceedingly  inferior  masonry 
which  the  inner  one,  covered  by  a  modern  mushroom-formed 
roof  of  red  tiles,  slanting  from  the  apex  to  the  circumference, 
is  three  times  as  high  as  the  outer  one,  which  latter  is  con- 
nected with  the  other  by  a  tiled  pent-house  roof  slanting  down- 
wards from  the  inner  periphery.  .  .  .  The  fresco  paintings  '^ 
.  .  .  are  the  joint  performance  of  Pomerancio  and  Tempesta 
.  .  .  comprising  in  minute  detail  the  unspeakable  sufferings 
inflicted  on  the  early  Christians  in  the  days  of  their  persecu- 
tion. .  .  .  To  recite  a  few  of  the  principal  foreground  subjects, 
there  may  be  seen  the  most  graphic  representations  that  the 

1  The  church  also  contains  a  mosaic  of  the  period  of  this  pope,  and 
over  the  head  of  one  figure  is  a  square  aureole  as  seen  in  mosaic-work  of 
the  eighth  and  ninth  centuries.  Head  (vol.  ii.  p.  242)  names  the  only  five 
other  examples  of  the  square  aureole  in  Rome. 

^  In  the  interior. 


4IO  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

imagination  can  conceive  of  a  martyr  immersed  in  a  caldron  of 
boiling  oil ;  of  another  bound  by  cords,  and  extended  on  his 
side,  while  molten  lead  is  being  poured  into  his  ears ;  of 
another  being  broiled  to  death  within  the  body  of  a  brazen 
bull ;  of  another  cast  into  a  yawning  abyss  swarming  with 
scorpions  and  serpents  ;  of  martyrs  torn  in  pieces  by  lions, 
tigers  and  panthers,  on  the  arena  of  the  Colosseum. — Sir  G. 
Head. 

Sta.  Maria  di  Ara  Cceli 

I  went  to  the  church  of  the  Ara  Coeli  ^  ...  up  that  long 
flight  of  one  hundred  and  twenty-four  marble  steps  overtopping 
the  Capitol,  the  site  of  the  Temple  of  Jupiter  Eerretrius,  to  see 
the  Santo  Bambino.  As  I  was  in  the  company  of  a  devout 
Catholic,  I  put  on  my  gravest  face — which,  however,  I  found 
it  a  hard  matter  to  maintain.  We  were  ushered  into  a  side 
chapel  off  the  sacristia,  where,  after  waiting  some  time,  one  of 
the  monks  appeared.  We  intimated  our  wish  to  be  presented, 
whereupon  he  straightway  proceeded  to  light  four  candles  on 
the  altar,  and  to  unlock  the  front  panel,  out  of  which  he  took 
a  large  gilt  box.  The  box  was  covered  with  common,  wear- 
able-looking baby-clothes,  which  he  put  on  one  side.  He  then 
placed  it  on  the  altar,  and  unfastened  the  lid ;  several  layers  of 
white  silk,  edged  with  gold,  were  then  removed,  and  at  last 
appeared  the  Bambino,  in  the  shape  of  an  ugly  painted  doll, 
some  two  feet  in  length.  A  more  complete  little  monster  I 
never  beheld — the  face  painted  a  violent  red ;  the  hair,  also 
wooden,  in  rigid  curls  ;  altogether  very  like  one  of  the  acting 
troop  in  Punch's  theatre.  There  was  a  gold  and  jewelled 
crown  on  its  head,  and  the  body — swathed  in  white  silk,  like 
an  Italian  baby — was  covered  with  diamonds,  emeralds,  and 
pearls,  but  of  no  great  size  or  value  ;  the  little  feet  were 
hollow,  and  of  gold.  Of  all  sights  in  the  world,  the  Bambino 
ought  to  be  the  most  humiliating  to  a  Catholic.  The  monk 
said  the  Bambino  was  of  cinque-cento  workmanship,  which  they 
always  do  say,  faute  de  mieux^  and  added,  with  a  devout  look, 
"  Ma  e  molto  prodigioso."  \Vhen  he  goes  to  the  sick,  he  rides 
in  a  coach  sent  for  him,  and  is  held  up  at  the  window  to  be 
adored.     At  Christmas  there  are  no  end  of  ceremonies,  in 

*  "  This  church  takes  its  name  of  '  Ara  Cceli '  from  the  vulgar  tradition 
of  the  Sibyl's  prophecy  to  Augustus,  of  the  birth  of  the  Redeemer,  and  of 
his  consequent  consecration  of  an  altar  on  this  spot  '  to  the  tirst-born  of 
God.'  " — Mrs.  Eaton. 


ROME  411 

which  he  takes  a  prominent  part ;  first,  the  presepio.  But  he 
is  very  great  indeed  at  the  Epiphany,  when  he  is  paraded  up 
and  down  the  church,  escorted  by  bands  of  splendid  miUtary 
music,  playing  polkas,  and  then  held  up  at  the  great  door 
facing  the  hundred  and  twenty-four  steps,  on  which  the  people 
kneel  and  worship  him. — Mrs.  Elliot. 

Sta.  Maria  del  Popolo 

It  was  originally  built  in  the  year  1099,  by  Pope  Paschal 
II.,  for  the  express  purpose  of  allaying  the  superstitious  fears 
of  the  people,  who  imagined  that  the  neighbourhood  was 
haunted  by  the  ghost  of  Nero,  who  is  supposed  to  have  been 
buried  on  the  heights  above,  on  the  Monte  Pincio,  then  the 
'■'■  Collis  Hortulorum."  In  the  year  1227  the  church  was  re- 
built at  the  public  expense,  and  dedicated  to  the  Holy  Virgin 
under  its  present  title  of  S.  Maria  del  Popolo ;  and  finally  it 
was  altogether  reconstructed  about  the  year  1480,  under  the 
auspices  of  Sixtus  IV.,  by  the  architect  Baccio  Pintelli.  The 
interior  consists  of  a  triple  nave,  divided  by  compound  piers, 
or  piers  faced  with  half  columns,  and  the  ceiling  is  a  plain 
whitewashed  vault  supported  by  arches  which  (one  of  the  very 
rare  instances  to  be  met  with  in  the  Roman  churches)  incline 
to  the  pointed  form  of  Gothic.  .  .  .  The  second  Chapel 
belongs  to  the  Chigi  family.  .  .  .  The  paintings  in  the  chapel, 
which  are  by  no  means  well  preserved,  were  designed  by 
Raphael,  and  executed  by  the  three  artists  Sebastiano  del 
Piombo,  Francesco  Salviati,  and  Vanni.  In  the  angles  are  four 
corresponding  groups  of  statues.  .  .  . 

The  choir  ...  is  square  in  area,  the  ceiling  vaulted  and 
divided  into  panels,  curiously  painted  in  fresco  by  Pinturicchio, 
with  four  portraits  at  the  angles  of  four  bishops  of  the  Eastern 
Church,  each  larger  than  life,  and  seated  on  the_  pontifical 
chair,  with  turban  on  head,  and  dressed  in  full  Oriental  cos- 
tume. .  .  .  Upon  the  sidewalls  are  two  very  magnificent 
monuments  ...  the  one  bearing  an  inscription  with  the  date 
of  1505,  of  Cardinal  Ascanio  Sforza,  and  the  other,  with  an 
inscription  of  1507  of  Cardinal  Recanati.  .  .  .  The  low  bas- 
relief  which  covers  almost  the  whole  surface  of  both  monu- 
ments is  considered  a  chef-d'cetivre  of  Andrea  Sansovino,  a 
species  of  sculpture  for  which  he  was  particularly  remarkable, 
comprising  for  the  most  part  arabesque  designs  of  foliage, 
executed  with  a  degree  of  prominence  hardly  exceeding  that 


412  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

of  stamped  paper,  and  relieved  occasionally  by  figures  of  fruit, 
such  as  apples,  pears,  peaches,  etc.,  in  alto-relievo.  The  style 
altogether  rather  resembles  the  chasing  on  gold  or  silver  than 
work  on  marble.  Particularly,  in  the  right-hand  monument, 
there  may  be  observed  upon  the  centre  tablet,  underneath  the 
sarcophagus,  a  very  exquisite  representation  of  a  vine,  of  which 
the  dense  masses  of  curling  leaves  and  grapes  are  undercut  to 
an  extraordinary  depth.  .  .  . 

Above  the  altar,  which  faces  within  the  choir  to  the  east, 
is  an  ancient  picture  of  the  Madonna,  one  among  several 
others  in  Rome  attributed  to  the  pencil  of  St.  Luke  the 
Evangelist. — Sir  G.  Head. 

SS.  Apostoli 

The  church  is  said  to  have  been  originally  built  by  the 
Emperor  Constantine,  immediately  underneath  his  baths  on 
the  Quirinale,  though  there  are  no  certain  accounts  of  its 
various  restorations  till  the  early  part  of  the  fifteenth  century, 
when  Martin  V.  entirely  rebuilt  it,  and  at  the  same  time  began 
the  Colonna  palace  adjoining.  Subsequently,  about  the  year 
1480,  Sixtus  IV.  added  the  portico;  and  Clement  XL,  about 
the  year  17 10  renewed  the  church  after  the  designs  of  the 
architect  Francesco  Fontana,  suffering,  however,  the  portico 
to  remain  as  it  existed  previously.  The  portico,  unlike  those 
of  the  generality  of  Roman  churches,  is  not  a  projecting  one, 
but  flush  with  the  upper  part  of  the  building,  containing  nine 
entrances,  through  nine  round-topped  arches.  .  .  .  This  spacious 
church  is  constructed  in  the  form  of  a  triple  nave,  divided  by 
massive,  compound  piers,  faced  on  three  sides  by  pilasters  in 
couples,  and  on  the  fourth  side,  or  the  side  towards  the  side 
naves,  by  a  pair  of  columns.  ...  At  the  extremity  of  the  nave, 
facing  downwards,  is  the  monument  of  Clement  XIV.,  the 
celebrated  Ganganelli,  said  to  have  been  sculptured  by  Canova 
at  the  age  of  twenty-five. — Sir  G.  Head. 

S.    PlETRO    IN    ViNCOLI 

S.  Pietro  in  Vincoli,  so  called  from  the  chains  with  which 
St.  Peter  was  bound  both  in  Rome  and  at  Jerusalem,  now 
preserved,  as  is  believed,  under  the  altar,  was  erected  about 
the  year  420,  and  after  frequent  reparations  presents  now  to 
the  eye  a  noble  hall,  supported  by  twenty  Doric  pillars  of 


ROME  413 

Parian  marble,  open  on  all  sides,  adorned  with  some  beautiful 
tombs,  and  terminating  in  a  semicircle  behind  the  altar.  It 
is  a  pity  that  the  taste  of  the  age  in  which  this  edifice  was 
erected  should  have  been  perpetuated  through  so  many  suc- 
cessive reparations,  and  the  arches  carried  from  pillar  to  pillar 
still  suffered  to  appear ;  while  an  entablature,  like  that  of  St. 
Maria  Maggiore,  would  have  concealed  the  defect  and  rendered 
the  order  perfect.  The  pillars  are  too  thin  for  Doric  propor- 
tions, and  too  far  from  each  other;  very  different  in  this 
respect  from  the  Doric  models  still  remaining  at  Athens.  But 
the  proportions  applied  by  the  ancient  Romans  to  this  order, 
rendered  it  in  fact  a  distinct  order,  and  made  it  almost  an 
invention  of  their  own.  Among  the  monuments  the  traveller 
will  not  fail  to  observe  a  sarcophagus  of  black  marble  and  of 
exquisite  form,  on  the  left  hand ;  and  on  the  right,  the  tomb 
of  Julius  II.,  indifferent  in  itself,  but  ennobled  by  the  cele- 
brated figure  of  Moses,  supposed  to  be  the  masterpiece  of 
Michael  Angelo,  and  one  of  the  most  beautiful  statues  in  the 
world. — Eustace. 

S.  Giovanni  de'  Fiorentini 

The  church  .  .  .  was  built  in  the  year  1488,  at  the  expense 
of  a  company  of  Florentines,  by  the  architect  Giacomo  della 
Porta,  who  has  constructed  it  partly  after  a  miniature  model 
of  St.  Peter's.  It  was  restored  in  the  year  1735  or  thereabouts 
under  the  auspices  of  Clement  XII.,  Corsini,  by  the  architect 
Alessandro  Galilei,  who  built  the  present  facade,  which  is  of 
great  pretension,  and  exceeds  its  due  proportion  in  magnitude, 
though,  as  is  common  enough  in  the  facades  of  the  Roman 
churches,  nothing  more  than  a  bare  naked  wall  that  overtops 
the  gable.  .  .  .  The  high  altar  was  built  at  the  expense  of  the 
Falconieri  family  by  Pietro  da  Cortona.  The  pediment,  or 
rather  frontispiece,  is  of  extraordinary  breadth  and  height.  .  .  . 
The  capitals  of  the  columns  and  pilasters  ...  are  ...  of  cota- 
nella — an  almost  solitary  instance  in  the  Roman  churches  of 
the  capitals  of  a  column  being  made  of  any  description  of 
coloured  marble.  .  .  .  Above  the  altar,  instead  of  an  altar 
picture,  is  a  magnificent  marble  group  sculptured  by  Antonio 
Razzi  of  St.  John  the  Baptist  baptizing  our  Saviour. — Sir  G. 
Head. 


414  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


S.  Onofrio 

The  convent  of  S.  Onofrio,  annexed  to  a  church  dedicated 
to  the  same  saint,  is  situated  immediately  above  the  Salviatti 
palace,  about  mid-height  upon  the  slope  of  the  Janiculum.  .  .  . 
The  ground  in  front  of  the  building,  like  the  ground  in  front 
of  the  Fontana  Paolina,  is  levelled  in  terrace-like  form,  and 
commands  a  magnificent  view  of  the  northern  part  of  the  city, 
including  St.  Peter's  and  the  Vatican,  with  Mount  Soracte  in 
the  distance.  The  convent  is  a  particular  object  of  interest 
to  visitors,  in  consequence  of  its  having  been  the  residence  of 
Tasso,  who  passed  his  latter  days  and  died  there.  ...  In  the 
library  is  to  be  seen  a  bust  and  an  autograph  of  Tasso,  with 
which  exception  no  other  reminiscences  of  the  poet  are  pre- 
served here  that  I  know  of.  The  autograph  consists  of  clear 
legible  writing  that  entirely  covers  a  quarter  sheet  of  small- 
sized  letter-paper ;  and  the  bust,  carefully  preserved  in  a  glass 
case,  is  of  wax,  coloured  flesh  colour  as  regards  the  head,  and 
the  remainder  wood  ;  the  resemblance,  so  said  the  friar  who 
conducted  me,  was  taken  from  the  dead  body. — Sir  G.  Head. 

The  Capucini 

Who  has  not  seen,  in  the  square  of  the  Palazzo  Barberini, 
that  burial  place  of  the  Capuchin  monks,  where  everything  is 
dead,  even  the  furniture?  .  .  .  The  work  is  a  broidery  of  bones  ; 
on  places  of  rest  cut  in  the  walls  lie  the  skeletons  of  Capuchins 
in  their  robes  ;  here  one  still  has  his  skin,  another  his  beard. 
Garlands  made  up  of  spinal  columns  decorate  the  bareness  of 
the  walls.  The  fantastic  imagination  of  the  monks  has 
allowed  itself  every  kind  of  funereal  fancy  in  interlaced  thigh- 
bones, wheels  of  elbows,  baskets  of  shoulders,  chandeliers 
hanging  from  the  roof  with  sockets  for  candles  cut  into  the 
skulls  forming  them.  The  earth  of  each  room  covered  fifteen 
monks,  laid  regularly  two  by  two.  They  are  buried  without 
coffins  in  holy  earth,  said  to  have  been  brought  back  during 
the  crusades.  In  reality,  it  is  a  sort  of  pozzolano  mingled 
with  arsenic. — E.  About. 

Minor  Churches 

Sta.  Bibiana. — In  470  Sta.  Simplicia  dedicated  this  church 
to  Sta.  Bibiana,  who  had  lived  in  the   locality.  .  .  .   Bernini 


ROME  415 

restored  it  in  1625.  The  statue  of  Sta.  Bibiana,  adorning  the 
grand  altar,  is  an  admired  work  of  Bernini's.  .  .  .  The  church 
has  eight  antique  columns,  and  frescoes  by  Pietro  da  Cortona, 
to  the  left  in  the  nave. — Stendhal 

Sta.  Cecilia. — Built  in  the  locality  where  the  house  of 
the  martyred  saint  was,  and  rebuilt  in  821.  Three  naves 
separated  by  columns ;  a  grand  altar  supported  by  four 
antique  columns  of  black  and  white  marble.  On  this  very 
rich  altar  is  seen  a  marble  statue  representing  the  saint  as  she 
was  found  in  her  tomb.  .  .  .  The  position  is  curious,  the 
saint  leaning  on  the  left  arm,  the  head  turned  to  the  ground. — 
Stendhal. 

Sta.  Francesca  Romana.  —  Situated  at  the  southern 
extremity  of  the  Campo  Vaccino  facing  towards  the  Capitoline, 
was  commenced  to  be  built  by  Paul  I.  about  the  year  760,  and 
was  completed  about  a  dozen  years  afterwards  by  Adrian  I., 
who  added  to  the  northern  gable  the  first  square  brick  tower 
ever  appended  to  a  Roman  church,  which  remains  to  the  present 
day  in  perfect  preservation.— ^/r  G.  Head. 

SS.  Giovanni  e  Paolo. — The  church  ...  is  said  to 
have  been  originally  built  on  the  site  of  the  residence  of 
two  brothers  (the  saints  and  martyrs  to  whom  it  is  dedicated, 
who  were  put  to  death  by  Julian  the  Apostate)  .  .  .  and  was 
put  in  the  condition  it  appears  in  at  present  by  the  architect 
Antonio  Canevari,  who  died  in  the  reign  of  Clement  XII.  .  .  . 
The  church,  which  is  built  in  brick,  is  remarkable  for  display- 
ing in  its  exterior,  here  and  there,  characteristic  indications, 
rarely  to  be  met  with  in  Rome,  of  the  Lombard  style  of 
architecture. — Sir  G.  Head. 

San  Giuseppe  de'  Falegnami. — This  church  is  built  im- 
mediately above  the  celebrated  TuUian  and  Mamertine 
dungeons,  though  nothing  further  is  related  of  its  origin  than 
that  it  belongs  at  present  to  a  confraternity  of  carpenters.  .  .  . 
An  excavation  [being]  sunk  to  the  level  of  the  dungeons,  the 
interior  is  converted  to  a  holy  shrine  consecrated  to  the 
apostles  Peter  and  Paul,  who  it  is  said  were  confined  in  its 
dungeons. — Sir  G.  Head. 

The    Jesu.^ — In  the  interior  the  main  interest  is  in  the 

^  Though  the  Jesuits  are  much  given  to  magnificence  in  their  churches 
(so  much  so  that  Gautier  calls  the  florid  late  churches  at  Venice  of  the 
"Jesuit  style"),  their  monasteries  are  very  simple.  This  was  particularly 
noted  by  Pere  Labat  in  his  visit  to  the  general  of  the  Jesuits  at  Rome. 
The  saint  in  the  text  is  Ignatius  Loyola,  founder  of  the  order. 


41 6  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

superb  chapel  of  St.  Ignatius,  a  masterpiece  of  splendour 
and  good  taste.  Nowhere  can  we  find  such  a  gorgeous 
collection  of  marbles.  This  chapel  is  placed  between  two 
pillars  of  fluted  yellow  antique  marble,  resting  on  bases  of 
African  breccia,  red,  yellow  and  black,  surrounded  by  a  frieze 
of  bronze  gilt  foliage  with  bronze  statues.  The  floor  is  made 
of  mixed  marbles,  the  altar  steps  are  of  porphyry,  whilst  the 
altar  blazes  with  the  rarest  marbles,  agates  and  lapis-lazuli,  and 
the  tomb  in  which  the  body  of  the  saint  is  placed  is  of  gilt 
bronze.  Above  is  the  statue  of  the  saint  in  silver,  inlaid  with 
precious  stones. — De  Brasses. 

S.  Marcello. — According  to  the  tradition  ...  it  was 
originally  the  dwelling-house  of  a  Roman  matron,  S.  Lucina. 
.  .  .  Rebuilt  by  Adrian  I.  about  the  year  780  ..  .  finally  it 
was  rebuilt  in  the  year  15 19  in  the  reign  of  Leo  X.,  after  the 
designs  of  Giacomo  Sansovino.  .  .  .  The  interior  is  in  the 
form  of  a  single  nave,  with  a  flat  coffered  ceiling,  very  richly 
carved  and  gilded,  and  particularly  remarkable  for  the  number 
of  scarlet  cardinals'  hats,  which,  as  is  the  custom,  are  suspended 
over  the  tombs  of  the  deceased  owners. — Sir  G.  Head. 

Sta.  Maria  Aventina  or  Del  Priorato. — It  is  supposed 
not  to  have  been  built  previous  to  the  thirteenth  century.  It 
was  restored  by  Pius  V.,  about  1570,  and  again  about  1765  it 
was  put  in  the  condition  it  is  in  at  present  at  the  private 
expense  of  the  Cardinal  Rezzonico,  who  employed  for  the 
purpose  the  architect  Piranesi,  the  church  having  been  con- 
ceded by  the  reigning  Pope,  Clement  XIII.,  to  the  Knights  of 
Malta,  of  whom  the  cardinal,  his  relative  was  Grand  Prior.  .  .  . 
The  exterior  of  the  building  .  .  .  has  more  the  appearance 
of  a  fortification  than  a  church. — Sir  G.  Head. 

Sta.  Maria  di  Monte  Santo. — Commenced  in  the  year 
1662  by  Alexander  VII.,  after  the  designs  of  the  architect 
Rainaldi,  under  the  immediate  direction  of  Bernini,  and  com- 
pleted afterwards  with  funds  raised  on  the  unclaimed  effects  of 
people  who  died  of  the  plague.  .  .  .  The  church,  surmounted 
by  an  oval  dome,  is  remarkable  for  the  classical  model  of  its 
tetrastyle  portico. — Sir  G.  Head. 

Sta.  Maria  Egiziaca. — This  is  said  to  be  the  temple 
built  by  Servius  TuUius  ;  it  is  surrounded  by  eighteen  columns 
of  which  six  are  isolated  and  the  remainder  half  built  in  the 
walls.  These  columns  are  of  the  Ionic  order  and  are  22  feet 
in  height,  being  composed  of  tufa  and  travertine.  .  .  .  This 
temple  was  unearthed  by  Napoleon  ;  it  had  been  changed  into 


ROME  417 

a  church  in  872.  On  the  left  as  we  enter,  is  a  model  of  the 
Holy  Sepulchre. — Stendhal. 

Sta.  Maria  in  Cosmedin.  —  Remarkable  for  its  fine 
antique  columns.  The  broad  slab  of  marble  placed  under  the 
portico  was  called  by  the  people  the  Bocca  della  Verita.  The 
man  who  took  an  oath  placed  his  hand  on  the  stone,  and  if  he 
swore  falsely,  it  never  failed  to  close. — Stendhal, 

Sta.  Maria  Sopra  Minerva.  —  Placed  opposite  an 
elephant  supporting  an  obehsk.  The  Dominicans  succeeded 
in  giving  this  church  a  stern  appearance,  not  unlike  the 
Inquisition  of  Goa.  To  do  so  they  adopted  the  Gothic  order. 
.  .  .  To  the  left  of  the  grand  altar  is  the  Christ  of  Michael 
Angelo. — Stendhal 

San  Pietro  in  Montorio. — We  were  surprised  this 
morning  at  the  fine  view  from  this  church,  the  finest  view  of 
Rome  and  one  giving  its  most  complete  aspect,  A  day  of 
sunshine  should  be  chosen,  when  the  clouds  are  driven  by  the 
wind  ;  then  the  domes  of  the  other  churches  will  be  seen 
alternately  in  light  and  shadow.  .  .  .  The  first  chapel  to  the 
right  here  has  the  Flagellation  painted  by  Sebastiano  del 
Piombo,  after  Michael  Angelo's  design,  if  the  tradition  be 
correct. — Stetidhal. 

Ss.  Silvestro  e  Martino  ai  Monti. — During  the  per- 
secution of  the  Christians,  the  Pope  (before  taking  refuge  in 
Mt.  St.  Oreste)  opened  a  subterranean  oratory  here.  The 
church  built  over  it  was  covered  over,  and  forgotten  till  its 
discovery  in  1650,  when  the  actual  church  built  in  500  was 
being  restored.  .  .  .  We  often  went  to  admire  the  landscapes 
painted  on  the  walls  ...  by  Guaspre  Poussin. — Stendhal. 

Trinita  de'  Monti. — Built  by  Charles  VIII.  at  the  request 
of  St.  Frangois  de  Paul,  and  restored  by  Louis  XVIII.  .  .  . 
Here  is  to  be  seen  the  Descetit  from  the  Cross  by  Daniele  de 
Volterra,  who,  instead  of  painting  souls,  paints  vigorous  and 
well-formed  bodies.  It  is  the  manner  of  Michael  Angelo,  with- 
out his  genius. — Stendhal. 

PALACES 

Castle  of  St.  Angelo 

At  the  end  of  Ponte  Angelo  stands  the  Castel  Angelo,  so 
called  because  .  .  .  S.  Gregory  in  a  solemn  procession  during 
the  plague  .saw  an  angel  upon  the  top  of  Moles  Adriani  sheathing 
his  sword  to  signify  that  God's  anger  was  appeased.   .  .  .  Since 

2  D» 


4i8  THE   ROOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

that  time  divers  Popes  have  turned  it  into  a  formal  castle. 
Boniface  the  VIII.,  Alexander  the  VI.,  and  Urban  the  VIII. 
have  rendered  it  a  regular  castle,  with  five  strong  bastions, 
store  of  good  cannons,  and  a  constant  garrison  maintained  in 
it.  From  this  castle  I  saw  divers  times  these  fortifications ; 
and  below  divers  great  pieces  of  artillery  made  of  the  brass 
taken  out  of  the  Pantheon ;  and  they  shewed  us  one  great 
cannon  which  was  made  of  the  brazen  nails  only  that  nailed 
that  brass  to  the  walls  of  the  Pantheon ;  the  length  and  form 
of  those  nails,  is  seen  upon  that  cannon,  to  shew  unto  posterity 
how  great  they  were,  with  these  words  upon  it ;  ex  clavis 
trabialibus  Poriicus  Agrippce.  In  this  castle  are  kept  prisoners 
of  state ;  the  5  millions  laid  up  there  by  Sixtus  Quintus ;  the 
Popes'  rich  triple  crowns  called  Regni,  and  the  chief  registers 
of  the  Roman  church. — Lassels. 


Spada  Palace 

I  can  never  praise  sufficiently  the  frescoes  by  Annibale 
Carracci  in  this  palace,  representing  Ovid's  Mefafnorp/ioses,  on 
the  ceilings  and  the  walls.  Luigi  and  Agostino  Carracci  had 
a  hand  in  some,  but  most  of  them  are  certainly  by  Annibale. 
In  colour  they  surpass  any  work  of  Raphael.  The  Spada 
Palace  contains  the  famous  statue  of  Pompey,  found  in  the 
ruins  of  Pompey's  Curia  where  the  senate  had  met  together 
on  the  day  Caesar  was  assassinated.  It  is  undoubtedly  the  one 
at  the  foot  of  which  great  Caesar  fell.^ — De  Brosses. 

CoLONNA  Palace 

The  huge  Colonna  Palace  has  little  outward  pomp,  but 
atones  for  that  by  the  splendid  staircase  within,  by  its  rich 
furniture,  its  orangery,  and  especially  by  its  superb  gallery, 
to  be  preferred  on  the  whole  to  that  of  Versailles,  and  full  of 
exquisite  paintings.  This  gallery  is  supported  by  huge  columns 
of  yellow  antique  marble.  .  .  .  Even  in  Rome  there  is  scarcely 
a  room  to  be  compared  to  this  gallery.  The  ceiling  is  painted 
with  .scenes  from  the  victory  of  Don  John  of  Austria,  and 
Prince  Colonna,  who  was  in  command  of  the  Catholic  army 
at  the  battle  of  Lepanto. — De  Brosses. 

'   Another  statue  likewise  claims  the  honour. 


ROME  419 


The  Borghese  {Palace  and  Villa) 

The  Palazzo  Borghese,  vulgarly  called  by  the  cockneys  of 
Rome  "  Cembalo  (the  harpsichord)  di  Borghese"  from  its 
peculiar  form,  was  the  work  of  Pope  Paul  the  Fifth  (a 
Borghese).  Its  great  court,  its  beautiful  colonnades,  supported 
by  granite  columns,  are  its  distinguishing  architectural  features. 
It  covers  an  immense  space,  and  is  a  proud  monument  of 
the  system  it  commemorates.  What  is  called  in  Rome 
appartamento-a-pianterreno,  vulgarly  translated  the  ground- 
floor,  consists  of  eleven  fine  rooms,  all  dedicated  to  the 
gallery,  and  containing  works  of  all  the  great  masters  of  all 
countries.  .  .  .  The  Villa  Borghese,  within  the  walls  of  the 
city,  is  almost  the  double  of  the  palace,  from  which  it  is  but 
a  short  walk,  and  once  had  a  celebrity  beyond  all  other  Roman 
villas.  It  was  built  by  Cardinal  Scipio  Borghese,  the  nephew 
of  Paul  the  Fifth ;  and  with  its  gardens  and  lake,  occupies  a 
space  of  nearly  three  miles  in  circumference.  The  interior  of 
this  stupendous  villa  is  filled  with  antique  and  modern  sculpture, 
pictures  and  mosaics  ^ — without,  its  grounds  are  covered  with 
casinos,  temples,  citadels,  aviaries  and  all  that  a  gorgeous  and 
false  taste,  with  wealth  beyond  calculation,  could  crowd  to- 
gether.— Lady  Morgan. 

Palazzo  Massimi 

The  Palazzo  Massimi,  though  one  of  the  smallest  and 
worst  situated  of  the  Roman  palaces,  is,  I  think,  by  far  the 
prettiest  building  of  them  all.  The  simplicity  of  its  Doric 
portico  and  court  particularly  pleased  me,  and  does  great 
credit  to  the  taste  of  Baldazzar  Peruzzi,  who  was  its  architect. . .  . 
We  visited  this  palace  to  see  the  famous  Discobolus,  found  in 
the  grounds  of  the  Villa  Palombari,  on  the  ^F^squiline  Hill, 
which  is  the  finest  in  the  world — at  least,  above  ground.  We 
were  shewn  a  chapel,  formerly  a  bed-room,  in  which  that 
notable  saint,  FiUpo  Neri,  raised  from  the  dead  a  son  of  this 
noble  house,  on  the  i6th  of  March  1583,  in  consequence  of 
which  grand  miracle  St.  Filipo  Neri  was  canonised,  the  place 
was  consecrated,  and  a  solemn  service  is  still  annually  per- 
formed in  it  upon  the  anniversary  of  the  day. — Mrs.  Eaton. 

^  This  collection  has  been  recently  acquired  by  the  state. 


420  THE  BOOK   OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 


Palazzo  Rospigliosi 

On  the  roof  of  the  Palazzo  Rospigliosi  is  painted  the  cele- 
brated fresco  of  Guido's  Aurora.  Its  colouring  is  clear,  har- 
monious, airy,  brilliant — unfaded  by  time.  The  Hours,  that 
hand-in-hand  encircle  the  car  of  Phoebus,  advance  with  rapid 
pace.  The  paler,  milder  forms  of  those  gentle  sisters  who 
rule  over  declining  day,  and  the  glowing  glance  of  those  who 
bask  in  the  meridian  blaze, — resplendent  in  the  hues  of  heaven, 
— are  of  no  mortal  grace  and  beauty ;  but  they  are  eclipsed 
by  Aurora  herself,  who  sails  on  the  golden  clouds  before 
them,  shedding  "  showers  of  shadowing  roses  "  on  the  rejoicing 
earth,  her  celestial  presence  diffusing  gladness  and  light  and 
beauty  around.  Above  the  heads  of  the  heavenly  coursers 
hovers  the  morning  star,  in  the  form  of  a  youthful  cherub, 
bearing  his  flaming  torch.  Nothing  is  more  admirable  in  this 
beautiful  composition  than  the  motion  given  to  the  whole.  .  .  . 

From  the  Aurora  of  Guido,  we  must  turn  to  the  rival 
Aurora  of  Guercino,  in  the  Villa  Ludovisi.  In  spite  of  Guido's 
bad  head  of  Apollo,  and  in  spite  of  Guercino's  magic  chiaro- 
scuro, I  confess  myself  disposed  to  give  the  preference  to 
Guido.  .  .  .  Guercino's  Aurora  is  in  her  car,  drawn  by  two 
heavenly  steeds,  and  the  shades  of  night  seem  to  dissipate  at 
her  approach.  Old  Tithonus,  whom  she  has  left  behind  her, 
seems  half  awake ;  and  the  morning  star,  under  the  figure  of 
a  winged  genius  bearing  his  kindled  torch,  follows  her  course. 
In  a  separate  compartment,  Night,  in  the  form  of  a  woman,  is 
sitting  musing  or  slumbering  over  a  book.  She  has  much  the 
character  of  a  sibyl.  Her  dark  cave  is  broken  open,  and  the 
blue  sky  and  the  coming  light  break  beautifully  in  upon  her 
and  her  companions,  the  sullen  owl  and  flapping  bat,  which 
shrink  from  the  unwelcome  ray.  The  Hours  are  represented 
under  the  figure  of  children,  extinguishing  the  stars  of  night. 
— Mrs.  Eaton. 

Villa  Farnesina 

The  Villa  Farnesina  is  rather  a  casino  than  a  villa.  ...  It 
was  built  by  Agostino  Chigi,  a  private  citizen  and  merchant 
of  Rome,  in  the  time  of  Leo  the  X.,  to  whom  a  solemn 
banquet  was  given  when  it  was  finished.  These  Roman 
citizens  shared  with  Popes  and  Princes  the  labours  of  the 
Bramantes  and  the  Raphaels ;  and  one  room  of  the  Farnesina 


ROME  421 

is  entirely  painted  by  the  pencil  of  Raphael  and  of  his  emi- 
nent pupils.  The  subject  of  this  precious  fresco  is  the  story 
of  Galatea ;  but  the  prima  donna  of  the  picture  is  a  nymph 
carried  off  by  a  Triton.  From  the  beauty  of  this  finished 
work  of  Raphael's  pencil,  the  eye  is  called  off  by  the  sketch  of 
a  head  !  a  colossal  head  !  Although  drawn  only  with  a  burnt 
stick,  yet  not  all  the  beauty  of  Raphael's  Nereids,  nor  the 
grace  of  Volterra's  Diana,  can  turn  the  attention  from  this 
wondrous  head !  Daniel  da  Volterra,  a  favourite  pupil  of 
Michael  Angelo's,  had  been  employed  with  the  disciples  of 
Raphael  is  painting  the  apartment,  and  prayed  his  immortal 
master  to  come  and  give  an  opinion  of  his  work.  Michael 
Angelo  arrived  at  the  Farnesina  before  his  pupil,  and  in  the 
restless  impatience  of  ennui  (the  malady  of  genius)  he  snatched 
a  bit  of  charcoal  and  dashed  off  that  powerful  head.^ — Lady 
Morgan. 

Raphael's  Casino 

Many  are  the  visits  I  have  paid  to  the  Casino  of  Raphael, 
which  was  the  chosen  scene  of  his  retirement  and  adorned  by 
his  genius.  It  is  about  half  a  mile  from  the  Porta  del  Popolo. 
The  first  wooden  gate  in  the  lane,  on  the  right  of  the  entrance 
into  the  grounds  of  the  Villa  Borghese,  leads  you  into  a  vine- 
yard which  you  cross  to  the  Casino  di  Raffaello ;  for  it  still 
bears  his  name.  .  .  .  We  passed  through  two  rooms,  painted 
by  his  scholars — the  third,  which  was  his  bedroom,  is  entirely 
adorned  with  the  work  of  his  own  hands.  It  is  a  small, 
pleasant  apartment,  looking  out  on  a  little  green  lawn,  fenced 
in  with  wood  irregularly  planted.  The  walls  are  covered  with 
arabesques,  in  various  whimsical  and  beautiful  designs, — such 
as  the  sports  of  children;  Loves  balancing  themselves  on 
poles,  or  mounted  on  horseback,  full  of  glee  and  mirth ; 
Fauns  and  Satyrs ;  Mercury  and  Minerva  ;  flowers  and  curling 
tendrils  and  every  beautiful  composition  that  could  suggest 
itself  to  a  mind  of  taste,  or  a  classic  imagination  in  its  most 
sportive  mood. — Mrs.  Eaton. 

Villa  Albani 

Deep  learning  is  generally  the  grave  of  taste.  But  the 
learning  which  is  engaged  in  Greek  and  Roman  antiquities,  as 

^  Here,  too,  is  Raphael's  Cupid  and  Psyche  series,  unhappily  never 
yet  photographed.  Raphael  would  seem  to  have  been  inspired  by  tlie 
amous  classic  painting  called  the  Aldobrandini  Nuptials. 


42  2  THE  BOOK  OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

it  embraces  all  that  is  beautiful  in  art,  rather  refines  and  regu- 
lates our  perceptions  of  beauty.  Here  is  a  villa  of  exquisite 
design,  planned  by  a  profound  antiquary.  Here  Cardinal 
Alexander  Albani,  having  spent  his  life  in  collecting  ancient 
sculpture,  formed  such  porticoes  and  such  saloons  to  receive 
it,  as  an  old  Roman  would  have  done  :  porticoes  where  the 
statues  stood  free  on  the  pavement  between  columns  propor- 
tioned to  their  stature ;  saloons  which  were  not  stocked  but 
embellished  with  families  of  allied  statues,  and  were  full 
without  a  crowd.  Here  Winkelmann  grew  into  an  antiquary 
under  the  Cardinal's  patronage  and  instruction,  and  here  he 
projected  his  history  of  art,  which  brings  this  collection  con- 
tinually into  view. — Forsyth. 

Villa  Medici 

It  was  in  1803  that  the  Academy  of  France,  founded  by 
the  munificence  of  Louis  XIV.,  moved  away  from  the  noise  of 
the  streets  to  the  Villa  Medici.  Since  that  removal  all  the 
great  painters  of  France  have  lived  in  the  palace  and  dreamed 
in  its  fine  garden.  David,  Pradier,  Delaroche,  Ingres  and 
Vernet  have  left  their  names  on  its  walls.  The  first  view  of 
the  palace  shows  it  to  be  vast  and  majestic,  but  without  much 
ornamentation.  We  at  once  recognise  the  arms  and  flag  of 
France  above  the  door.  The  only  attraction  of  the  approach 
is  an  avenue  of  oaks,  and  a  fountain  falling  into  a  broad  vase. 
The  first  floor  is  taken  up  by  the  reception  rooms,  which  are 
spacious  and  adorned  with  the  finest  Gobelin  tapestry,  which 
makes  them  in  every  way  worthy  of  France.  They  lead  into 
an  admirable  vestibule,  adorned  with  old  columns  and  casts 
from  the  antique.  But  the  most  charming  part  of  the  house 
is  the  fagade  to  the  back,  which  holds  a  good  place  among  the 
masterpieces  of  the  Renaissance.  The  architect  might  almost 
have  exhausted  a  mine  of  bas-reliefs  for  the  adorning  of  the 
palace.  The  garden  is  of  the  same  period,  and  dates  from  the 
time  when  the  Roman  aristocracy  professed  the  most  profound 
contempt  for  flowers.  There  is  nothing  here  save  trees  with 
a  scrupulously  correct  alignment.  Six  lawns,  surrounded  by 
hedges  of  a  man's  height,  spread  before  the  villa  and  carry  the 
eye  as  far  as  Mount  Soracte  which  closes  in  the  horizon.  To 
the  left  some  sixteen  small  lawns  are  shut  in  by  lofty  laurels, 
tall  saplings  and  evergreen  oaks.  They  meet  above  and  cover 
the  walks  with  fresh  and  mysterious  shade.     To  the  right,  a 


ROME  423 

nobly-planned  terrace  encloses  a  wood  of  oaks,  riven  and  con- 
torted by  age.  ...  A  little  further,  an  entirely  rustic  vine- 
yard stretches  to  the  -Porta  Pinciana,  where  Eelisarius  is  said 
to  have  begged.  At  any  rate  there  is  to  be  found  the  cele- 
brated inscription  on  a  stone  :  Date  obolutn  Belisario.  The 
larger  and  smaller  gardens  are  sprinkled  with  statues,  figures 
of  Hermes  and  marbles  of  all  kind.  Water  flows  in  ancient 
sarcophagi  or  leaps  from  marble  fonts  :  for  water  and  marble 
are  the  two  luxuries  which  Rome  possesses  in  abundance. — 
E.  About. 

The  Fountains  of  Rome 

The  fountains  of  Rome  are,  in  themselves,  magnificent 
combinations  of  art,  such  as  alone  it  were  worth  coming  to 
see.  That  in  the  Piazza  Navona,  a  large  square,  is  composed 
of  enormous  fragments  of  rock,  piled  on  each  other,  and  pene- 
trated as  by  caverns.  This  mass  supports  an  Egyptian  obelisk 
of  immense  height.  On  the  four  corners  of  the  rock  recline, 
in  different  attitudes,  colossal  figures  representing  the  four 
divisions  of  the  globe;  the  water  bursts  from  the  crevices 
beneath  them.  They  are  sculptured  with  great  spirit ;  one 
impatiently  tearing  a  veil  from  his  eyes ;  another  with  his 
hands  stretched  upwards.  The  Fontani  di  Trevi  is  the  most 
celebrated,  and  is  rather  a  waterfall  than  a  fountain ;  gushing 
out  from  masses  of  rock,  with  a  gigantic  figure  of  Neptune ; 
and  below  are  two  river  gods,  checking  two  winged  horses, 
struggling  up  from  among  the  rocks  and  waters.  The  whole 
is  not  ill  conceived  nor  executed ;  but  you  know  not  how 
delicate  the  imagination  becomes  by  dieting  with  antiquity  day 
after  day  !  The  only  things  that  sustain  the  comparison  are 
Rafael,  Guido,  and  Salvator  Rosa. 

The  fountain  on  the  Quirinal,  or  rather  the  group  formed 
by  the  statues,  obelisk,  and  the  fountain,  is,  however,  the  most 
admirable  of  all.  From  the  Piazza  Quirinale,  or  rather  Monte 
Cavallo,  you  see  the  boundless  ocean  of  domes,  spires,  and 
columns,  which  is  the  City,  Rome.  On  a  pedestal  of  white 
marble  rises  an  obelisk  of  red  granite,  piercing  the  blue  sky. 
Before  it  is  a  vast  basin  of  porphyry,  in  the  midst  of  which 
rises  a  column  of  the  purest  water,  which  collects  into  itself 
all  the  overhanging  colours  of  the  sky,  and  breaks  them  into 
a  thousand  prismatic  hues  and  graduated  shadows— they  fall 
together  with  its  dashing  water-drops  into  the  outer  basin. 
The  elevated  situation  of  this  fountain  produces,  I  imagine. 


424  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

this  effect  of  colour.  On  each  side,  on  an  elevated  pedestal, 
stand  the  statues  of  Castor  and  Pollux,  each  in  the  act  of 
taming  his  horse ;  which  are  said,  but  I  believe  wholly  without 
authority,  to  be  the  work  of  Phidias  and  Praxiteles.  These 
figures  combine  the  irresistible  energy  with  the  sublime  and 
perfect  loveliness  supposed  to  have  belonged  to  their  divine 
nature.  The  reins  no  longer  exist,  but  the  position  of  their 
hands  and  the  sustained  and  calm  command  of  their  regard, 
seem  to  require  no  mechanical  aid  to  enforce  obedience. — 
Shelley. 

Environs  of  Pv.ome 

The  excursions  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Rome  are  charm- 
ing, and  would  be  full  of  interest  were  it  only  for  the  changing 
views  they  afford,  of  the  wild  Campagna.  But,  every  inch  of 
ground,  in  every  direction,  is  rich  in  associations,  and  in  natural 
beauties.  There  is  Albano,^  with  its  lovely  lake  and  wooded 
shore,  and  with  its  wine,  that  certainly  has  not  improved  since 
the  days  of  Horace,  and  in  these  times  hardly  justifies  his 
panegyric.  There  is  squalid  Tivoli,  with  the  river  Anio, 
diverted  from  its  course,  and  plunging  down,  headlong,  some 
eighty  feet  in  search  of  it.  With  its  picturesque  Temple  of  the 
Sibyl,  perched  high  on  a  crag  ;  its  minor  waterfalls  glancing 
and  sparkling  in  the  sun  ;  and  one  good  cavern  yawning  darkly, 
where  the  river  takes  a  fearful  plunge  and  shoots  on,  low  down 
under  beetling  rocks.  There,  too,  is  the  Villa  d'Este,  deserted 
and  decaying  among  groves  of  melancholy  pine  and  cypress- 
trees,  where  it  seems  to  lie  in  state.  Then,  there  is  Frascati, 
and,  on  the  steep  above  it,  the  ruins  of  Tusculum,  where 
Cicero  lived,  and  wrote,  and  adorned  his  favourite  house  (some 
fragments  of  it  may  yet  be  seen  there),  and  where  Cato  was 

1  Near  Albano,  it  may  be  noted,  is  the  Lake  of  Nemi.  Here  was 
located  the  priest  of  Diana,  who,  Eustace  reminds  us,  "  was  always  a 
fugitive,  perhaps  an  outlaw  or  a  criminal ;  he  obtained  the  honour  by 
attacking  and  slaying  his  predecessor,  and  kept  it  by  the  same  tenure,  that 
is,  till  another  ruffian  stronger  or  more  active  dispossessed  him  in  the  same 
manner."  The  folklore  connected  with  this  remarl<able  custom  has  been 
discussed  in  Mr.  R.  W.  Frazer"s  Golden  Bough.  The  old  legends  of  Numa 
and  the  nymph  Egeria,  it  will  be  remembered,  belong  to  a  valley  a  little 
south  of  Rome.  Recently  the  two  galleys  permanently  kept  by  Caligula 
on  Lake  Nemi  and  afterwards  sunk,  have  been  raised.  Prince  Orsini,  the 
present  owner,  is  forming  a  museum  of  the  mosaic  and  bronzes  recovered. 
Lear  has  described  the  ruined  fourteenth-century  town  of  Ninfa,  left 
desolate  for  500  years  with  its  collegiate  churches,  "  the  walls  of  which 
still  remain,  overgrown  with  ivy." 


ROME  425 

born.  We  saw  its  ruined  amjjhitheatre  on  a  grey  dull  day, 
when  a  shrill  March  wind  was  blowing,  and  when  the  scattered 
stones  of  the  old  city  lay  strewn  about  the  lonely  eminence, 
as  desolate  and  dead  as  the  ashes  of  a  long  extinguished  fire. 
— Dickens. 

THE   ART   OF   ROME 
Raphael 

In  all  his  early  works  and  in  almost  all  his  Madonnas  he 
was  influenced  by  memories  of  Perugia.  .  .  .  The  young 
women  whom  he  paints  are  fresh  from  their  first  communion, 
their  spirit  as  yet  undeveloped  ;  Religion,  while  it  has  fostered 
them,  has  stunted  their  minds,  and  while  they  have  a  woman's 
body,  they  have  the  heart  of  a  child.  .  .  .  Pass  now  to 
Raphael's  pagan  works.  ...  He  loves  the  nude  form,  the 
vigorous  joint  of  the  thigh,  the  splendid  vitality  of  a  back 
crowded  with  muscles  :  everything,  in  fact,  that  makes  a  man 
a  runner  and  an  athlete.  I  know  nothing  finer  than  his  sketch 
for  the  marriage  of  Alexander  and  Roxana.  .  .  .  The  figures 
are  undraped  in  this  Greek  festival  whose  nudity  seems  a  part 
of  nature,  and  in  no  way  connected  with  indecency  or  lust,  so 
innocent  is  the  happiness,  the  careless  gaiety  of  the  youth,  health 
and  beauty  of  these  bodies  brought  to  perfection  in  the  pala- 
strum,  with  the  grace  of  the  best  days  of  antiquity.  A  little 
Cupid  tries  to  leap  in  the  big  cuirass  that  is  too  heavy  for  his 
limbs  ;  two  others  bear  the  hero's  lance  ;  some  put  the  shield 
on  another  who  pouts,  while  they  bear  him  in  their  dance  with 
wild  glee  and  cries  of  joy.  The  hero  comes  forward  as  gal- 
lantly as  the  Apollo  Belvedere  but  with  more  manhood. 
Nothing  can  go  beyond  the  dashing  grace  and  lively  smiles 
with  which  two  young  comrades  shew  him  the  gentle  Roxana, 
who  sits  with  her  arms  open  to  him.  .  .  . 

I  went  to  Santa  Maria  della  Pace  ...  in  the  last  chapel 
to  the  left  of  which  are  seen  Raphael's  Four  Sibyls  above  an 
arch.  They  stand,  sit  or  lean  according  to  the  form  of  the 
vaulting,  and  little  angels  complete  the  group,  offering  them 
parchments  to  write  their  prophecies.  Solemn  and  peaceful, 
these  are  indeed  superhuman  creatures  placed,  like  the  god- 
desses of  antiquity,  above  human  action  ;  their  calm  attitudes 
shew  their  inmost  souls,  theirs  is  no  disturbed  nor  transitory 
existence,  they  live  immutably  in  the  eternal  no7ci.  .  .  . 

I  come  back  to  the  Vatican  to  a  different  series  of  impres- 


426  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

sions.  .  .  .  First  I  examine  the  Loggie  .  .  .  and  the  mighty 
wrestler  representing  the  God  the  Father,  who  with  one  stretch 
of  his  Hmbs  comprehends  infinity.  I  pass  to  the  bent  figure 
of  Eve  as  she  picks  the  apple  ;  her  head  beautiful  above  the 
strong  muscles  of  a  young  body.  .  .  .  Next  are  the  white 
Caryatides  of  the  Hall  of  Heliodorus,  true  goddesses  in  their 
sublime  grandeur  and  simplicity,  akin  to  antique  statues  except 
in  the  expressions  of  mild  virtue  of  the  Junos  and  Minervas, 
existing  as  they  do  to  turn  their  heads  or  upraise  an  arm  in 
unchanging  serenity.  Raphael  excels  in  these  ideal  figures 
and  allegories.  On  the  ceiling  is  Philosophy,  the  stern  and 
calm.  Jurisprudence,  an  austere  virgin  whose  eyes  are  cast 
down  while  she  lifts  the  sword,  and  fairest  of  all,  Poesy.  .  .  . 
Raphael  gives  them  all  his  own  grace,  and  even  sometimes  as 
in  the  Muses  of  the  Farnassus  ...  we  might  think  his  heart 
had  gone  out  to  them. 

All  this  is  forcibly  displayed  in  the  School  of  Athens.  The 
groups  on  the  steps,  above  and  around  the  two  philosophers, 
never  did  nor  could  exist,  and  this  is  the  very  reason  of  their 
beauty.  The  scene  belongs  to  a  more  ideal  world,  which  the 
eye  of  man  has  never  seen,  for  it  belongs  to  the  spirit  of  the 
artist.  .  .  .  The  young  man,  in  the  long  white  garment,  with 
the  angelic  expression,  walks  like  an  apparition  of  thought. 
Another  with  curled  locks  bends  over  the  geometrical  diagram 
and  his  three  companions  by  his  side  are  as  spiritual  as  him- 
self. It  is  a  dream  in  the  clouds  ;  and  these  figures  like  those 
seen  in  an  ecstasy  or  a  vision,  may  remain  indefinitely  in  the 
same  attitudes ;  for  them  time  does  not  pass  away.  .  .  . 

We  are  now  in  a  Renaissance  palace,  before  the  Psyche 
series  of  Raphael.  .  .  .  They  decorate  a  large  dining-room 
veneered  with  marble ;  the  ceiling  is  rounded  and  framed  by 
a  garland  of  fruit  and  flower.  Above  each  window  the  border 
opens  to  make  room  for  the  healthy  bodies  of  Jupiter,  Venus, 
Psyche,  and  Mercury.  The  assembly  of  the  gods  fills  up  the 
vaulted  ceiling ;  and  if  they  could  raise  their  eyes  above  the 
table  groaning  beneath  gold-plate  and  strange  fishes,  the  guests 
would  see  naked  forms  relieved  on  the  background  of  Olym- 
pian blue.  .  .  .  There  is  an  exuberance  of  pagan  strength  in 
the  figure  that  comes  near  to  coarseness.  In  Roman  art  the 
feminine  type  is  rather  one  of  strength  than  elegance ;  the 
women,  owing  to  the  lack  of  exercise,  become  fleshly  and  fat ; 
and  this  fulness  is  evidenced  in  many  of  the  women  of 
Raphael.  .  .  .  But  the  Psyche  borne  through  the  Air  by  Cupids 


ROME  427 

and  Venus  entreating  Jupiter  are  fresh  in  delicious  youth. 
And  what  can  be  said  of  the  two  flower-bearers  with  butter- 
fly's wings,  the  fascinating  Grace  who  dances  into  the  banquet, 
scarcely  touching  the  ground  with  her  foot  ?  .  .  .  In  the  spaces 
by  the  greater  goddesses  are  flying  children,  a  Cupid  yoking 
a  lion  with  a  sea-horse ;  another  diving  into  the  soft  water 
where  he  will  sport  and  play,  and  finally  white  doves,  little 
birds,  hippogrifs,  a  dragon-formed  sphinx  and  every  fancy  of 
ideal  imagination.  .  .  .  What  a  difference  from  the  timidity 
of  Raphael's  Christian  art !  Between  the  Descent  from  the 
Cross  1  and  the  decoration  of  the  Farnese  palace,  the  spirit  of 
the  Renaissance  passed  over  him  and  enriched  his  genius  with 
the  greatest  delight  of  life. —  Taine. 

Papal  Tapestries 

The  great  sacrifice  to  which  I  made  up  my  mind  of  leaving 
behind  me  a  lava  streaming  down  from  the  summit  of  the 
mountain  almost  to  the  sea  was  richly  compensated  by  the 
attainment  of  my  purpose,  by  the  sight  of  the  tapestries  which, 
being  hung  up  on  Corpus-Christi  day,  afforded  the  most 
splendid  idea  of  Raphael,  his  scholars  and  his  time. 

The  working  of  tapestry  with  standing  warp,  called 
Hautelisse,  had  iDy  the  date  of  those  tapestries  reached  its 
highest  perfection  in  the  Netherlands.  The  gradual  stages  in 
the  development  of  this  art  are  not  known  to  me.  Down 
into  the  twelfth  century,  the  single  figures  may  have  been 
wrought  by  embroidery  or  otherwise  and  then  united  into  a 
whole  by  specially  worked  intermediate  pieces.  Examples  of 
this  we  have  in  the  coverings  of  the  choir  chairs  of  old  cathe- 
drals, the  work  bearing  some  resemblance  to  the  coloured 
window-panes  whose  pictures  were  at  first  composed  of  small 
pieces  of  coloured  glass.  In  tapestries,  needle  and  thread 
took  the  place  of  lead  and  tin  bars  in  windows.  All  the  early 
beginnings  of  the  art  are  of  this  kind;  we  have  seen  costly 
Chinese  tapestries  wrought  in  this  way. 

Probably  under  the  stimulus  of  Oriental  specimens  this 
art  had  attained  its  acme  in  the  sumptuous  commercial 
Netherlands  at  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century. 
Fabrics  of  this  sort  were  carried  back  to  the  East,  and  were 
assuredly  known  in  Rome,  probably  from  imperfect  patterns 
and  drawings  taken  in  a  Byzantine  style.  Leo  X.,  a  great, 
^  In  the  Borghese. 


428  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

and  in  many,  especially  esthetic,  respects,  a  liberal-minded 
man,  had  a  desire  to  see  represented  in  free  and  large  propor- 
tions on  the  tapestries  immediately  surrounding  his  presence 
such  pictures  as  delighted  his  eye  on  walls  ;  and,  accordingly, 
at  his  inducement,  Raphael  prepared  the  cartoons,  selecting, 
happily,  as  the  material  for  the  embodiment  of  his  great  soul, 
such  subjects  as  Christ's  relation  to  his  apostles,  and  then  the 
achievements  of  these  Christ-instructed  men  in  the  world  after 
the  ascension  of  their  Master. 

On  Corpus-Christi  day  you  discerned  for  the  first  time 
the  true  purpose  of  the  tapestries  ;  converting  as  they  did 
colonnades  and  open  spaces  into  magnificent  salons  and 
pleasure-walks,  while,  at  the  same  time,  displaying  to  your 
eyes  the  faculty  of  the  most  gifted  of  men,  the  conjoint 
perfection  of  art  and  handicraft. 

The  Raphael  cartoons,  as  now  preserved  for  us  in  England, 
still  remain  the  admiration  of  the  w^orld. — Goethe. 

Michael  Angelo  in  the  Vatican 

Superhuman  beings  as  sorrowful  as  ourselves,  bodies  of 
gods  contorted  by  earthly  passions,  an  Olympus  where  human 
tragedies  find  an  entrance,  such  is  the  inspiration  that  is 
breathed  from  the  ceiling  of  the  Sistine  chapel.  Nothing  is 
more  unjust  than  to  compare  these  works  to  the  Sibyls  and 
the  Isaiah  of  Raphael.  .  .  .  There  are  souls,  and  there  are 
thoughts,  whose  reaction  is  that  of  the  thunderbolt  as  their 
action  is  that  of  the  Hghtning :  such  are  the  conceptions  of 
Michael  Angelo.  Of  what  is  the  reverie  of  his  colossal 
Jeremiah  as  he  dreams  with  eyes  down-cast  and  his  huge  head 
bent  on  an  enormous  hand  ?  His  floating  hair  falls  in  curls 
to  his  chest,  his  hands  veined  and  furrowed  like  those  of  a 
labourer,  his  wrinkled  brow,  his  impenetrable  face,  the  lament- 
ing voice  that  seems  pent  in  his  body,  gives  a  conception  of 
one  of  those  savage  kings,  hunters  of  the  urus,  who  came  to 
dash  their  impotent  rage  against  the  gates  of  the  Roman 
Empire.  Ezekiel  turns  in  impetuous  questioning,  and  his 
movement  is  so  swift  that  the  rush  of  air  raises  a  portion  of 
the  mantle  on  his  shoulder.  Aged  Persica,  lost  in  the  long 
folds  of  her  falling  garment,  is  immersed  in  the  reading  of  a 
book  which  her  knotted  hands  hold  before  her  piercing  eyes. 
Jonah  falls  with  his  head  backward  at  the  terrific  apparition, 
while  his  fingers  involuntarily  reckon  the  forty  days  that  are  left 


ROME  429 

to  Nineveh,  Lybica,  in  her  violent  descent  bears  the  great 
volume  she  has  seized ;  Erythrea  is  a  more  warlike,  a  more 
lofty  Pallas  than  her  Athenian  sister  was  of  old.  .  .  . 

These  are  but  the  contours  of  the  vault,  which  throughout 
its  two  hundred  feet  of  area,  develops  the  histories  of  Genesis 
and  the  deliverance  of  Israel,  the  creation  of  the  world,  of 
man  and  woman,  the  fall,  the  exile  of  the  first  pair  of  mortals, 
the  deluge,  the  brazen  serpent,  the  murder  of  Holophernes, 
the  punishment  of  Haman — ^in  a  multitude  of  tragical  figures. 
.  .  .  The  human  form  as  here  represented,  is  all-expressive,  in 
the  skeleton,  muscles,  drapery,  attitudes  and  proportion.  .  .  . 
Moral  energy  emanates  from  every  physical  detail.  .  .  ,  Look 
at  Adam  sleeping  by  Eve,  whom  the  Creator  has  but  now  drawn 
from  his  ribs.  Never  before  or  since  was  human  so  deeply 
buried  in  his  sleep  :  his  huge  body  is  prone,  and  his  hugeness 
makes  this  lassitude  the  more  striking.  Awake,  his  hands  now 
fallen,  his  limbs  now  listless,  might  contend  with  a  lion.  .  .  . 
Before  the  Adam  and  Eve,  when  expelled  from  Paradise,  no 
man  need  look  to  the  face  for  an  expression  of  sorrow :  it  is 
in  the  entire  torso,  in  the  whirling  limbs,  in  human  carpentry 
and  the  setting  of  the  internal  parts,  with  the  firmness  of  their 
Herculean  joints,  in  the  crashing  and  movement  of  the  gnarled 
limbs  that  we  find  the  complete  conception.  .  .  .  The  greatest 
achievement,  in  my  opinion,  is  to  be  found  in  the  twenty  youth- 
ful figures  seated  on  the  cornices  at  the  four  points  of  each 
painting.  These  are  painted  sculptures  giving  us  the  concep- 
tion of  an  unknown  and  vaster  world.  Each  figure  is  that  of 
a  youthful  hero  of  the  time  of  Achilles  and  Ajax,  and  of  as 
high  birth  but  even  fiercer  and  more  fiery  energy.  .  .  .  Nature 
has  produced  nothing  like  them.  Would  that  she  had  made 
us  so;  were  she  minded  to,  she  would  have  every  type  here; 
for  by  the  side  of  the  giants  and  the  heroes  are  virgins  and  in- 
nocent lads,  an  Eve  fair  in  proud  youth,  a  handsome  Delphica, 
like  a  primitive  nymph,  whose  eyes  wander  in  naive  wonder : — 
all  of  them  sons  and  daughters  of  a  colossal  fighting  race,  but 
whose  period  gave  them  the  smiling  serenity,  the  simple  joy 
and  grace  of  the  Oceanides  of  ^schylus  or  the  Nausicaa  of 
Homer.  .  .  . 

The  Lait  Judgment  alongside  is  different.  The  painter  was 
in  his  sixty-seventh  year  and  his  inspiration  was  no  longer 
the  same.  .  .  .  Here  he  intentionally  enlarges  the  body,  and 
inflates  the  muscles.  .  .  .  We  can  but  see  the  disciple  of  Dante, 
the  friend  of  Savonarola,  the  solitary  soul  nourished  on  the 


430  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

menaces  of  the  Old  Testament,  the  patriot,  the  stoic,  and  the 
judge  who  bears  the  funereal  pall  of  the  liberty  of  Italy,  and 
amid  degraded  characters  and  souls  degenerate,  lives  alone  in 
the  darkening  days,  to  spend  nine  years  on  this  gigantic  work, 
his  soul  filled  with  thoughts  of  the  Supreme  Judge  amid  the 
anticipated  echoes  of  the  last  day. —  Taine. 

General  Note  on  Rome 

Rome,  with  its  obvious  claims  as  the  capital  of  the  Re- 
public, the  Empire,  the  Papacy,  and  finally  of  United  Italy, 
may  be  looked  upon  as  the  epitome  and  museum  of  the  art 
of  all  of  the  rest  of  Italy.  Ceding  the  place  to  Ravenna, 
Pisa,  and  Verona  for  Byzantine,  Romanesque,  and  Lombardic 
architecture ;  it  yet  contains  within  it  specimens  of  well-nigh 
anything  attempted  elsewhere,  with  the  exception  of  Gothic 
architecture,  a  lacuna  attributed  to  the  absence  of  the  Popes  at 
Avignon.  Rome,  then,  may  be  looked  upon  either  as  the  intro- 
duction or  the  climax  of  a  study  of  Italian  art,  preferably,  to 
our  thinking,  the  latter.  Whichever  view  the  reader  takes,  we 
would  counsel  him  not  to  consider  Rome  as  a  town  which  can 
be  seen  and  contrasted  with  organic  wholes  like  Venice  or 
Florence.  That  its  buildings  have  a  family  likeness  is  true, 
for  the  spirit  and  influence  of  the  Papacy  is  visible  everywhere  ; 
but  it  has  to  be  noted  that  Rome  itself  never  produced  a  great 
artist  (though  it  produced  the  greatest  popes)  and  always  drew 
its  craftsmen  from  other  towns.  A  certain  lack  of  the  ideal  and 
of  artistic  initiative  is  generally  observable  in  large  towns,  and 
Rome  was  content  to  allure  the  most  important  mediaeval  or 
renaissance  craftsmen  to  her,  allowing  them  the  freest  choice 
of  style,  as  long  as  they  kept  within  the  subjects  and  conven- 
tions of  the  ecclesiastical  city.  In  consequence  it  is  very 
difficult  to  say  that  there  is  any  Roman  school  of  painters  or 
sculptors,  although  the  main  character  of  the  town  is  to  be 
seen  through  the  methods  of  Bernini  as  much  as  those  of 
Michael  Angelo  or  Raphael.  Some  such  caution  as  this  is 
necessary,  for  the  traveller  will  often  be  perplexed  in  Rome, 
and  ask,  "  Is  there  any  distinctively  Roman  art,  in  the  same 
sense  as  there  is  a  Venetian  or  a  Florentine  art?"  The 
answer  must  be  in  the  negative,  and  it  becomes  necessary  to 
seek  some  clue  through  the  labyrinth  of  antiquity  that  Rome  is. 

The  only  safe  method  of  study  will  be  found  to  be  the 
historical  one.     The  unversed  traveller  generally  goes  first  to 


ROME  431 

the  Forum  and  thence  to  the  Vatican,  but  the  leap  is  too  wide 
and  calculated  to  give  a  false  perspective.     To  begin  with  the 
Forum  is  an  excellent  course,  but  it  may  be  suggested  that  the 
first  study  should  be  an  entirely  literary  one,  for  the  Forum 
contains  very  little  even  of  the  date  of  the  later  Republic. 
Some  conception  must  be  obtained  of  the  early  state  of  Rome 
and  then  the  traveller  will   be   prepared   to  understand  the 
imperial  remains  in  the  Forum,  the  ruins  of  the  Palatine  and 
the  Colosseum.     In  selecting  a  few  picturesque  descriptions  of 
these  spots  we  have  purposely  avoided  anything  savouring  of 
archaeology ;  and  the  reader,  while  recognising  the  necessary 
insufficiency  of  the  descriptions  chosen,  will  we  believe   be 
nevertheless  glad  to  have  them.     One  comment  may  perhaps 
be  of  utility.     The  spectator  will  always  be  astonished  at  the 
numbers  of  buildings  included  in  the  small  space  between  the 
Capitol   and   the   Arch    of  Titus.      But   the   ground-area   is 
probably   not   less   than   that   of  the   Acropolis    of    Athens, 
although  the  Greeks  always  placed   their  buildings  with   an 
exquisite  sense  of  fitness  and  built  them  of  far  finer  materials. 
The  Roman  was  always  practical  in  his  architectural  arrange- 
ments, and  the  land  about  the  Forum — as  the  spot  of  the  first 
settlement — was  of  enormous  value.     The  advantage  of  the 
close  juxta-position  of  the  buildings  for  us  moderns  is  that  the 
historical  events  of  centuries  were  centred  in  the  Via  Sacra. 
It  may   be   asked  whether   we   have   any   existing  sculpture 
which    preserves    the    racial    type  of    the    Romans   as   the 
Parthenon  frieze  does   that  of  the  Greeks.      Apart  from  the 
busts  of  the    Emperors,   we  have   a  national   record   in  the 
Trajan  column.     In  a  realistic  way  it  gives  us  the  physiog- 
nomy of  the  imperial  Romans  in  a  way  which  repays  a  most 
careful  study.     An  examination  of  the  lower  portions  of  the 
casts  in  South  Kensington  Museum — the  column  is  inaccessible 
in  Rome — gives  us  a  conception  of  personal  fortitude  which 
we   associate   with   the   head  of  Napoleon.     Concerning  the 
archaeology  of  the  Forum  Romanum  it  is  dangerous  to  speak, 
because   books   written  even   a  few   years   back   are   rapidly 
superseded.      No  very  sensational   discoveries  are   probable 
now  that  the  earliest  historic  level  has  been  reached  by  the 
excavations  of  Professor  Giacomo  Boni.    He  has  revolutionised 
our  ideas  concerning  the  Via  Sacra  (that  referred  to  by  most 
writers  being  only  a  mediaeval  road-way),  has  identified  the 
sepulchre   of  Romulus   and  discovered  a  new   church,    Sta. 
Maria  Antiqua,  with  a  fresco  of  the  eighth  century.     Professor 


432  THE  BOOK  OF  ITALIAN  TRAVEL 

Avioli,  too,  has  demonstrated  that  a  city  existed  before  that 
found  by  Romulus. 

We  have  given  but  a  brief  description  of  the  palaces  on  the 
Palatine,  for  little  here  is  possible  but  archaeology.  The  House 
of  Livia,  however  (probably,  but  not  conclusively  the  house  of 
the  wife  of  Augustus),  contains  frescoes  in  a  remarkable  state 
of  preservation,  and  of  the  highest  artistic  character.  The 
arabesques  of  the  atrium,  the  fancied  view  of  a  street  from 
within,  the  illustrations  of  Polyphemus  pursuing  Galatea,  and 
Hermes  freeing  lo  from  Argus  are  far  superior  in  art  to  any 
Pompeian  painting  and  give  us  some  conception  of  what 
Greek  fresco-work  in  Athens  must  have  been.  This  house,  to 
our  thinking,  is  worth  all  the  ruins  of  the  Palatine,  but  their 
extensive  peregrination  brings  the  traveller  to  the  house  in  a 
state  of  fatigue  that  leaves  him  cold  to  its  historic  beauty. 
After  prolonged  study  of  these  wonderful  rooms  we  would 
advise  a  journey  to  Tivoli  to  the  remains  of  the  Villa  of 
Hadrian,  not  because  much  is  to  be  seen,  but  because  much 
of  the  finest  statuary  was  found  there.  This  private  city,  as 
we  might  almost  call  it,  for  it  took  up  an  area  of  7  Roman 
miles,  was  built  by  Hadrian  as  a  mimic  representation  of 
remarkable  buildings  seen  during  his  triumphal  progress  round 
the  Empire,  a  progress  which  was  perhaps  the  apotheosis  of 
Roman  supremacy.  Spartianus  tells  us  that  Hadrian  re- 
produced at  Tivoli  buildings  and  landscapes  such  as  the 
Lyceum,^  the  Academy,  the  Prytaneum,  the  Poikilon,  Canope, 
Tempe,  and  "that  nothing  might  be  omitted,"  Hades  itself. 
Chateaubriand  has  described  the  remains  in  sketchy  rhetoric, 
and  Gaston  Boissier  (^Promenades  Archeologiques)  has  en- 
deavoured to  give  more  accurate  indications,  but  the  villa  is 
more  to  be  studied  in  the  spaciousness  of  such  rooms  as 
remain,  and  the  general  aspect  than  in  any  individual 
details. 

When  some  mental  impression  has  been  obtained  of  the 
architecture  of  an  imperial  palace,  it  may  be  filled  in  by  the 
statues  in  the  various  museums.  True  that  almost  all  of 
these  statues  have  been  restored,  but  this  restoration  does 
not  detract  from  their  aesthetic  value,  and  only  increases  the 
doubt  as  to  some  attributions  and  classical  details  of  dress. 
Imperial  sculpture  is  mostly  to  be  found  in  the  Capitoline, 
Vatican,  Conservatorial,  and  other  museums.     The  authority 

^  Hadrian's    Greek    buildings    still    preserved    the    Roman    arch,    as 
Boissier  has  pointed  out. 


ROME  433 

here  is  W.  Helbig,  whose  Classical  Antiquities  in  Rome  has 
been  translated  by  J.  F.  and  F.  Muirhead.  These  antiquities 
are  in  themselves  a  study  of  extreme  importance,  and  would 
be  preferably  taken  after  a  residence  in  Athens.  In  so  far, 
however,  as  classical  sculptures  or  frescoes  were  discovered  at 
a  period  when  they  affected  Italian  art,  they  link  on  to  the 
study  of  Italy.  The  racial  resemblance  too  between  the  art 
of  the  two  epochs  is  striking,  even  where  later  imitation  has 
been  out  of  the  question. 

We  defer  the  consideration  of  the  Colosseum  till  now, 
because  though  built  under  the  Flavian  dynasty,  it  is 
associated  with  the  Christian  martyrs.  We  have  not  printed 
any  description  of  their  tortures  in  the  arena,  because  any- 
thing written  to-day  falls  short  of  the  reality  of  what  must 
have  been  the  spectacle  of  a  human  shaimbles.  Reference 
may  here  be  made,  however,  to  a  (Christian)  clay  lamp  repro- 
duced in  the  text-books,  representing  a  martyr  exposed  to  a 
lion.  This  shows  that  the  victims  were  placed  on  raised 
platforms,  tied  to  a  stake,  and  that  the  wild  beasts  ran  up  an 
inclined  plane  to  them.  The  arena  itself  was  comparatively 
low,  to  guard  against  the  desperate  leaps  of  the  animals,  but 
for  the  purposes  of  the  dreadful  exhibition  the  sufferers  had  to 
be  raised. 

From  the  Colosseum  a  natural  transition  brings  us  to 
the  Catacombs,  the  study  of  which  has  been  elaborated  with 
such  marvellous  insight  by  De  Rossi.  As  in  the  case  of  the 
Forum,  Rome  has  proved  her  absolute  mastery  in  archsological 
matters.  The  catacombs  are  the  link  between  the  primitive 
Church  and  the  earliest  remaining  basilicas,  and  the  accepted 
modern  opinion  is  that  there  was  nothing  secret  about  the 
eucharistic  celebrations  or  the  burials  in  the  catacombs.  By 
the  most  ancient  laws  of  Rome,  no  burials  within  the  city 
were  permissible ;  and  the  Jewish  communities  in  Rome  had 
excavated  their  burial  grounds  in  the  tufa  of  the  Campagna. 
At  first  the  Christians  shared  the  catacombs  with  the  Jews ; 
then  they  constructed  them  on  their  own  account.  Most 
were  for  purposes  of  burial,  but  some  were  expressly  made  for 
ceremonial  purposes,  and  these  latter  shew  in  some  structural 
details,  such  as  the  apse  and  presbytery,  the  germ  of  the 
basiUcas.  The  inscriptions  shew  that  Greek  was  for  some 
time  the  language  of  the  Church.  The  rich  sculptured 
sarcophagi  prove  that  there  were  men  of  position  among  the 
converts.      Catacomb  burial  began  to  cease  about  the   year 

2  E 


434  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

400,  and  several  centuries  are  merely  occupied  by  invasions 
from  the  north  and  the  gradual  depopulation.  When  the 
earliest  existing  churches  came  into  being,  they  were  built 
by  a  population,  partly  Italian  with  a  certain  proportion  of 
Teutons,  but  few  indeed  of  the  imperial  Romans.  Much 
information  is  given  on  the  whole  subject  in  Lowrie's  Christian 
Art  afid  ArchcBologv,  and  with  some  study  of  the  actual  cata- 
combs may  be  joined  a  walk  through  the  Museo  Kircheriano, 
containing  in  part  Christian  antiquities,  and  it  may  be  mentioned 
that  there  is  a  collection  of  similar  antiquities  in  the  British 
Museum.  Here  again  is  a  special  study  to  be  made,  and  one 
which  almost  overwhelms  us  with  its  richness. 

Passing  to  the  basilicas,^  the  most  general  theory  is  that 
their  form  was  founded  on  the  plan  of  the  Roman  houses,  not 
the  old  Roman  type,  but  the  "  atrium  as  it  was  embellished 
through  the  influence  of  the  Greek  peristyle."  The  atrium,  of 
course,  had  to  be  roofed  completely  to  make  it  suitable  for 
Christian  worship ;  the  tablinum,  which  was  "  the  only  re- 
minder of  the  sacred  hearth,"  became  the  altar  and  the  altar 
(originally  of  wood)  became  after  the  sixth  century  a  chest 
containing  saintly  relics.  Our  extracts  with  regard  to  churches 
are  as  full  as  space  permits,  and  give  as  accurate  an  account 
as  can  be  expected  :  at  any  rate,  we  should  only  run  the  risk 
of  making  mistakes  if  we  entered  on  the  many  technical 
questions  involved.  We  will  only  add  that  as  the  catacombs 
are  of  vital  interest  for  early  frescoes,  so  the  basilicas  contain 
mosaics,  lacking  perhaps  in  the  distinctive  Byzantine  note  to 
be  found  at  Ravenna,  but  of  more  interest  to  the  Christian 
student.  A  symbolic  work  like  the  Christ  Enthroned  in  the 
Neiv  Jerusalem  in  Sta.  Pudenziana  is  a  document  of  inestimable 
value  as  illustrating  the  spirit  of  the  early  church  in  Rome. 
Christian  mosaic  is  mainly  to  be  distinguished  from  ancient 
Roman  mosaic  in  that  the  Christian  work  was  glass-mosaic, 
used  for  illustrative  purposes,  and  its  general  scheme  of  colour 
strengthened  by  a  gold  background.  Roman  mosaic  was  of 
a  marble  composite,  and  mostly  used  for  floors  in  formal 
decorative  designs,  though  historical  compositions  exist.  In 
the  Renaissance  a  reversion  was  made  to  the  Roman  method 
owing  to  the  discovery  of  various  pavements.  Many  of  the 
older  cathedral  pavements  are  inlaid  marble  traceries  and  not 
mo-saic  at  all. 

In  our  historic  research  the  next  few  centuries  are  not  so 
'  A  basilica,  in  its  earliest  sense  of  all,  meant  a  king's  house. 


ROME  435 

striking.  The  papacy  had  fallen  upon  troublous  times. 
Charlemagne  received  the  Imperial  insignia  from  Pope 
Leo  III.  in  800,  but  the  Holy  Roman  Empire  soon  was 
broken  up  into  its  constituent  parts.  Platina  refers  to 
several  of  the  later  popes  as  poriiificuli  or  popelings.  Rome 
had  become  a  city  of  brawls,  and  the  general  corruption 
produced  the  attempt  at  regeneration  of  Arnold  of  Brescia. 
Rome  was  at  this  period  a  city  of  towers,  —  built  for  defensive 
purposes, — a  type  of  which  may  be  seen  in  those  remaining 
at  San  Gemignano,  or  the  Asinelli  and  Garisendi  towers  at 
Bologna.  Brancaleone  destroyed  140  of  them  in  1252.  The 
Crusades,  though  they  did  not  affect  Italy  as  much  as  the 
northern  peoples,  are  another  reason  for  the  lack  of  in- 
teresting remains  during  this  period  in  Rome,  whose  history 
becomes  even  more  void  with  the  withdrawal  of  the  Popes 
to  Avignon  in  1309,  except  for  the  short-lived  power  of  Cola 
di  Rienzo. 

As  filling  an  important  lacuna  we  may  say  a  few  words 
about  the  old  basilica  of  St.  Peter's.  Built  in  326,  and  gradu- 
ally enlarged,  the  documentary  restorations  make  it  look  like  a 
church-fortress.  Mounting  a  short  flight  of  steps  the  ancient 
pilgrim  would  see  a  compact  front  with  a  belfry  and  the 
Vatican  dwelling  to  his  right,  a  guard-house  to  his  left,  and 
past  these  would  enter  a  cloister  with  a  small  shrine  in  the 
middle.  At  the  further  end  of  this  cloister  was  the  portico 
and  facade  of  the  church  with  Giotto's  Navicella  or  "  ship  of 
the  church  "  in  mosaic.  Passing  into  the  cathedral,  the  pil- 
grim would  find  it  something  like  S.  Paolo  fuori,  but  with 
Corinthian  columns  raised  on  steps  to  the  aisles.  The  famed 
bronze  statue  of  St.  Peter  probably  had  its  place  in  the 
nave. 

It  is  regrettable  that  no  writer  should  have  entered  into  a 
comparison  between  St.  Peter's  and  the  Vatican  at  Rome  and 
San  Marco  and  the  Doge's  Palace  at  Venice.  In  each  case 
the  principal  church  and  seat  of  government  are  contiguous ; 
in  each  case  they  embody  the  entire  tradition  of  the  respective 
cities.  A  moment's  reflection  shows  how  in  Venice  every- 
thing speaks  of  foreign  conquest  and  enterprise  oversea — even 
the  body  of  St.  Mark  was  brought  from  Alexandria,  and  the 
materials  of  the  building  are  from  other  places ;  whereas  in 
Rome  the  basilica  was  built  over  the  supposed  resting-place  of 
St.  Peter,  the  materials  were  quarried  from  the  palaces  of  the 
Caesars,  and  the  general  note  is  one  of  the  history  of  Rome. 


436  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

New  St.  Peter's  in  general  decoration  is  mostly  of  the  Bernini 
period,  and  its  fragments  of  Giotto  cannot  compare  with  the 
earlier  mosaics  of  San  Marco.  Had  the  old  papal  palace  of 
the  Lateran  been  spared,  that  together  with  the  church  of  the 
Lateran  would  have  become  a  complete  parallel  to  San  Marco 
and  the  Doge's  Palace. 

When  Martin  V.  returned  to  Rome  in  1420,  he  found  a 
city  that  had  been  desolated  by  plague  as  well  as  faction. 
"When  he  came,"  wrote  Platina,  "he  found  the  city  of  Rome 
so  ruinated  that  it  looked  nothing  like  a  city.  You  might 
have  seen  the  houses  ready  to  totter.  .  .  .  There  was  neither 
the  face  of  a  city  nor  any  sign  of  civility  there,  the  citizens 
seeming  rather  sojourners  and  vagabonds."  There  were  few 
traces  left  of  classic  Rome,  and  the  Renaissance  craftsmen  had 
a  free  hand  to  build  up  a  new  city.  Practically,  the  Rome  we 
see  to-day  is  an  eighteenth-century  town  (with  entirely  recent 
quarters),  but  St.  Peter's  and  the  larger  palaces  belong  to  the 
full  tide  of  the  Renaissance.  Nicholas  V.  was  the  first  pope 
to  adopt  an  expressed  policy  of  making  religion  visible  in 
material  grandeur.  This  he  and  his  successors  were  able  to 
do,  because  they  were  despotic  rulers  like  the  Sforzas  or  the 
Medici.  Julius  II.  and  Leo,  called  the  Magnificent,  adorned 
Rome  with  the  buildings  that  Raphael  and  Michel  Angelo 
have  made  memorable. 

There  is  in  our  time  a  hesitation  to  accept  these  two  artists 
at  the  valuation  which  three  centuries  of  worshippers  have 
given  them.  This  is  to  be  attributed  to  our  appreciation  of 
the  primitives,  and  our  admiration  for  Velasquez  and  Rem- 
brandt. To  understand  the  art  of  Raphael  and  Michel 
Angelo  in  Rome,  we  must  remember  the  preponderating 
influence  of  the  Papacy.  Raphael's  work  illustrates  in  part 
the  early  history  of  Christian  Rome,  as  well  as  such  new 
doctrines  as  that  based  on  the  Miracle  of  Bolsena,  but  these 
subjects  do  not  exclude  that  of  the  School  of  Athens,  for 
Renaissance  Catholicism  considered  itself  the  inheritor  of  the 
culture  of  all  the  ages.  Michel  Angelo,  with  his  sterner 
temper,  went  directly  back  to  the  Old  Testament  and  the 
Sibyls  of  ancient  Rome,  but  here  again  the  church  considered 
itself  the  heir  of  both  traditions.  The  two  masters,  working 
at  the  centre  of  Catholic  authority,  give  us  in  their  work  a 
valuable  commentary  on  the  most  important  aspects  of  Re- 
naissance dogma.  In  a  period  of  highly  refined  thought  such 
as  it  was,   the  art  appealed  to  complicated   motives.      The 


ROME  437 

Vatican  frescoes  sum  up  the  experience  of  an  era  ;  our  recogni- 
tion of  their  value  will  depend  on  our  knowledge  of  history  and 
of  human  nature  as  developed  in  a  culminating  period  of 
civilisation,  beautiful  with  a  sweetness  that  is  premonitory  of 
decay,  overstrung  with  a  conscious  power  that  yet  knows  its 
great  day  is  forever  gone. 

The  declining  age  of  Renaissance,  or  rather,  rococo  art  in 
Rome  was  marked  by  the  work  of  Bernini,  who  with  all  his 
extravagance  links  on  to  the  masters  in  the  technique  of  his 
earlier  sculpture.  His  monumental  architecture,  with  all  its 
faults,  still  influences  almost  every  piece  of  street-decoration 
done  in  our  own  day.  In  his  gay  insouciance  and  facility 
Bernini  is  not  unlike  the  Italian  composers  of  opera.  The 
last  influence  of  Rome  in  art  may  be  seen  in  the  composed 
landscapes,  with  ruins  plentifully  intermingled,  with  which 
Piranesi  and  Claude  expressed  public  taste  while  Canaletto 
was  investing  the  buildings  of  Venice  with  a  golden  afterglow 
of  decadent  power.  But  while  the  Republic  of  Venice  was  to 
receive  its  coup  de  grace  at  the  hands  of  Napoleon,  the  Papacy 
was  only  to  lose  its  temporal  power  after  several  generations, 
and  to  regain  many  times  over  the  spiritual  uifluence  which 
has  indeed  been  so  greatly  enhanced  by  that  loss. — Ed. 


NAPLES^   AND    THE  BAY    OF   NAPLES 


NAPLES 

The  morrow  after  our  arival,  in  the  afternoone,  we  hired  a 
coach  to  carry  us  about  the  towne.  First  we  went  to  the 
Castle  of  St.  Elmo,  built  on  a  very  high  rock,  whence  we  had 
an  intire  prospect  of  the  whole  Citty,  which  lyes  in  shape  of  a 
theatre  upon  the  sea  brinke,  with  all  the  circumjacent  islands, 
as  far  as  Capreas,  famous  for  the  debauched  recesses  of  Tiberius. 
This  Fort  is  the  bridle  of  the  whole  Citty,  and  was  well  stor'd 
and  garrison'd  with  native  Spanyards.  The  strangenesse  of  the 
precipice  and  rarenesse  of  the  prospect  of  so  many  magnificent 
and  stately  Palaces,  Churches,  and  Monasteries,  with  the 
Arsenall,  the  Mole,  and  Mount  Vesuvius  in  the  distance,  all 
in  full  com'and  of  the  eye,  make  it  one  of  the  richest  landskips 
in  the  world. 

Hence  we  descended  to  another  strong  Castle,  cal'd  II 
Castello  Nuovo,  which  protects  the  shore,  but  they  would  by 
no  intreaty  permit  us  to  go  in ;  the  outward  defence  seemes  to 
consist  but  in  4  towrs,  very  high,  and  an  exceeding  deepe 
graft  with  thick  walls.  Opposite  to  this  is  the  Toure  of  St. 
Vincent,  which  is  also  very  strong. 

Then  we  went  to  the  very  noble  Palace  of  the  Viceroy, 
partly  old  and  part  of  a  newer  work,  but  we  did  not  stay  long 
here.  Towards  the  evening  we  tooke  the  ayre  upon  the  Mole, 
which  is  a  streete  on  the  rampart  or  banke  rays'd  in  the  Sea 
for  security  of  their  gallys  in  port,  built  as  that  of  Genoa. 
Here  I  observed  a  rich  fountaine  in  the  middle  of  the  Piazza, 

^  From  Rome  the  traveller  formerly  went  to  Naples  by  way  of  Terra- 
cina,  Gaeta,  and  Capua.  Of  Monte  Cassino,  seen  from  the  railway  on  the 
journey  south,  Taine  wrote  :  "  The  chief  Benedictine  Abbey  and  the  most 
ancient.  It  was  founded  in  the  sixth  century,  originally  on  the  site  of  a 
temple  of  Apollo  ;  earthquakes  several  times  destroyed  it,  and  the  present 
edifice  dates  from  the  seventeenth  century."  St.  Benedict  is  of  importance 
as  the  examplar  of  the  earliest  Italian  monasticism.  M.  A.  Dantier  has 
made  a  special  study  of  the  various  Benedictine  abbeys. 

438 


NAPLES   AND  THE   BAY  OF  NAPLES       439 

and  adorn'd  with  divers  rare  statues  of  copper  representing  the 
Sirens  or  Deities  of  the  Parthenope,  spouting  large  streames  of 
water  into  an  ample  shell,  all  of  cast  metall,  and  of  great  cost ; 
this  stands  at  the  entrance  of  the  Mole,  where  we  mett  many 
of  the  Nobility  both  on  horseback  and  in  their  coaches  to  take 
XSxQ,  fresco  from  the  Sea,  as  the  manner  is,  it  being  in  the  most 
advantageous  quarter  for  good  ayre,  delight,  and  prospect. 
Here  we  saw  divers  goodly  horses  who  handsomly  become 
their  riders,  the  Neapolitan  gentlemen.  .  .  . 

Climbing  a  steepe  hill  we  came  to  the  monastery  and 
church  of  the  Carthusians,  from  whence  is  a  most  goodly 
prospect  towards  the  sea  and  citty,  the  one  full  of  galleys 
and  ships,  the  other  of  stately  palaces,  churches,  monasteries, 
castles,  gardens,  delicious  fields  and  meadows.  Mount  Vesuvius 
smoaking,  the  Promontory  of  Minerva  and  Misenum,  Caprea^, 
Prochyta,  Ischia,  Pausilipe,  Puteoli  and  the  rest,  doubtless  of 
the  most  divertisant  and  considerable  vistas  in  the  world.  .  .  . 

The  building  of  the  Citty  is  for  the  size  the  most  magnifi- 
cent of  any  in  Europe,  the  streetes  exceeding  large,  well  paved, 
having  many  vaults  and  conveyances  under  them  for  the  sul- 
lage,  which  renders  them  very  sweete  and  cleane  even  in  the 
midst  of  winter.  To  it  belongeth  more  than  3000  Churches 
and  monasteries,  and  those  the  best  built  and  adorn'd  of  any 
in  Italy.  They  greately  affect  the  Spanish  gravity  in  their 
habite  \  delight  in  good  horses  ;  the  streetes  are  full  of  gallants 
on  horseback,  in  coaches  and  sedans,  from  hence  brought  first 
into  England  by  Sir  Sanders  Duncomb.  The  women  are 
generaly  well  featur'd  but  excessively  libidinous.  The  country- 
people  so  jovial  and  addicted  to  musick,  that  the  very  husband- 
men almost  universaly  play  on  the  guitarr,  singing  and  com- 
posing songs  in  prayse  of  their  sweetehearts,  and  wil  commonly 
goe  to  the  field  with  their  fiddle ;  they  are  merry,  witty,  and 
genial,  all  which  I  much  attribute  to  the  excellent  quality  of 
the  ayre.  They  have  a  deadly  hatred  to  the  French,  so  that 
some  our  company  were  flouted  at  for  wearing  red  cloakes,  as 
the  mode  then  was. — Evelyn. 

Naples  in  the  Eighteenth  Century 

Naples  is  the  only  Italian  town  which  really  has  the  sense 
of  a  capital  city.  Its  movement,  the  number  of  the  people, 
the  abundance  and  the  perpetual  noise  of  the  carriages ;  the 
court  that  is  not  without  splendour  in  its  formalities,  and  the 


440         THE    BOOK    OF    ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

life  and  pride  of  its  chief  personages :  all  this  helps  to  give 
Naples  the  living  and  animated  appearance  which  Paris  and 
London  have,  but  which  Rome  is  entirely  without.  The 
population  here  is  excitable,  the  middle  classes  affected,  the 
higher  nobility  fastidious,  and  the  lesser  hungry  for  high- 
sounding  titles,  which  were  showered  on  them  and  to  spare 
under  the  domination  of  the  house  of  Austria.  The  Emperor 
has  sold  titles  to  the  first  comer,  whence  the  proverb  :  Cer- 
tainly he  is  a  diike,  although  not  a  getitleman.  .  .  .  The  con- 
quest of  this  kingdom  was  no  great  trouble  to  the  Spaniards. 
It  will  always  be  the  prey  of  the  first  invader.  .  .  .  There  is 
also  another  home  defect  of  an  incurable  kind  :  it  is  the  spirit 
of  the  masses,  excessively  perverse,  evil,  superstitious,  treacher- 
ous, inclined  to  sedition,  and  always  ready  to  pillage  in  the 
following  of  any  Masaniello  who  seizes  on  the  favourable 
chance  of  rebellion. — De  Brasses. 

Amongst  the  amusements  of  Naples,  I  believe  I  did  not 
mention  the  Corso.  Here  the  Neapolitans  display  a  magnifi- 
cence that  amazes  strangers,  particularly  on  the  gala-days. 
The  coaches  are  painted,  gilt  and  varnished  so  admirably  as 
to  exceed  by  many  degrees  in  beauty  the  finest  in  Paris  :  they 
are  lined  with  velvet  or  satin,  fringed  with  gold  or  silver. 
The  Neapolitan  horses  are  the  most  beautiful  I  ever  saw; 
large,  strong,  high-spirited,  with  manes  and  tails  as  fine  as 
flax,  of  a  great  length,  and  in  waves.  Their  harness  is  as 
brilliant  as  it  is  possible  to  make  them  ;  I  shall  only  mention 
one  set,  by  which  you  may  judge  of  others ;  the  whole  was 
made  of  blue  and  silver ;  and  the  ornament  that  covered  the 
top  of  the  horse's  manes  represented  rows  of  convolvuluses 
formed  of  the  same  materials,  and  finely  executed  :  on  their 
heads  they  bore  white  ostrich-feathers  and  artificial  flowers. 
On  these  gala-days,  the  Neapolitan  ladies  drive  with  six,  and 
often  with  eight  horses ;  besides,  a  kind  of  sumpter  horse, 
which  does  not  draw,  but  is  fastened  on  the  outside,  between 
the  leaders  and  the  next  pair.  This  creature,  over  and  above 
a  profusion  of  ornaments,  is  covered  with  an  incredible  number 
of  little  bells,  of  which  he  seems  very  proud,  kicking,  prancing 
and  plunging  from  time  to  time,  as  with  design  to  hear  his 
bells  jingle.  This  horse  is  called  balerina,  I  suppose  from 
appearing  to  dance  as  he  goes. — Lady  Miller. 


NAPLES    AND   THE   BAY   OF   NAPLES       441 

Thoughts  from  Goethe 

That  no  Neapolitan  will  allow  the  merits  of  his  city  to  be 
questioned,  that  their  poets  should  sing  in  extravagant  hyper- 
bole of  the  blessings  of  its  site,  are  not  matters  to  quarrel 
about,  even  though  a  pair  of  Vesuviuses  stood  in  its  neighbour- 
hood. Here  one  can  almost  cast  aside  all  remembrances,  even 
of  Rome.  As  compared  with  this  free  open  situation,  the 
capital  of  the  world,  in  the  basin  of  the  Tiber,  looks  like  a 
cloister  built  on  a  bad  site.  .  .  , 

With  sympathetic  pleasure  you  respond  to  the  exuberant 
gladness  which  here  and  everywhere  salutes  your  eyes.  The 
gay  particoloured  flowers  and  fruits  in  which  nature  here 
prinks  herself,  invite  men  likewise  to  deck  out  themselves  and 
their  gear  in  the  brightest  colours  possible.  Silken  cloths  and 
sashes,  flowers  blooming  on  hats,  adorn  every  son  and  daughter 
of  man  in  any  measure  able  to  procure  them.  In  the  humblest 
houses,  chairs  and  chests  of  drawers  display  gay  flowers  on 
gilded  grounds.  The  very  one-horse  calashes  blaze  in  burning 
red ;  the  carving  gilt ;  the  horse  in  front  tosses  aloft  in  the  air 
his  artificial  flowers,  his  bright  red  tassels,  his  tinselled  bravery. 
Many  of  them  carry  their  heads  bushy  with  plumage,  some 
even  flaunting  little  flaglets  which  wave  at  every  motion.  We 
are  wont  to  call  the  passion  for  gaudy  colours  barbaric  and 
tasteless,  and  so  in  some  respects  it  may  be ;  yet  under  a 
perfect  serene  blue  sky,  nothing  is  really  gaudy,  for  nothing 
can  outshine  the  splendour  of  the  sun  and  his  reflection  in 
the  sea. — Goethe. 


NEAPOLITAN    LIFE^ 

A  Child's  Funeral 

As  the  people  are  gay  in  life,  so  also  in  death  no  solemn 
black  procession  is  suff'ered  to  disturb  the  harmony  of  the 
joyous  world.  I  saw  a  child  borne  to  the  grave.  A  large 
red-velvet  cloth  stitched  with  broad  gold  covered  a  broad 
bier ;  on  this  stood  a  carved  little  box  richly  gilded  and  silver 
plated,  wherein  lay  the  white-robed  child  quite  suffused  with 
rosy  ribbons.  At  the  four  corners  of  the  little  box  were  four 
angels,  each  about  two  feet  high  holding  large  bunches  of 

^  Naples  is  still  a  town  of  numerous  festas,  which  may  be  found  ade- 
quately described  in  Stamer's  Doke  Napoli. 


442  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

flowers  over  the  reposing  child,  and  being  held  fast  below 
only  by  wires  moved  at  every  motion  of  the  bier,  thus  appear- 
ing to  strew  out  mild  reviving  perfumes.  The  angels  swung 
about  with  all  the  greater  volubility  that  the  procession  sped 
along  the  streets,  the  priests  at  the  head  of  it  and  the  taper- 
bearers  running  rather  than  walking. — Goethe. 

A  Water-Party 

It  was  a  sort  of  fete  offered  to  Marie-Louise,  by  the  King 
of  Naples,  and  took  place  on  the  water.  Never  was  there  a 
more  propitious  night  for  such  a  festival,  for  not  a  breeze 
ruffled  the  calm  bosom  of  the  beautiful  bay,  which  resembled 
a  vast  lake,  reflecting  on  its  glassy  surface  the  bright  sky 
above,  which  was  glittering  with  innumerable  stars.  Naples, 
with  its  white  colonnades,  seen  amidst  the  dark  foliage  of  its 
terraced  gardens,  rose  like  an  amphitheatre  from  the  sea ;  and 
the  lights  streaming  from  the  buildings  on  the  water,  seemed 
like  columns  of  gold.  The  castle  of  St.  Elmo  crowned  the 
centre  of  the  picture ;  Vesuvius,  like  a  sleeping  giant  in  grim 
repose,  stood  on  the  right,  flanked  by  Mount  St.  Angelo,  and 
the  coast  of  Sorrento  fading  into  the  distance ;  and  on  the 
left,  the  vine-crowned  height  of  the  Vomero  with  its  palaces 
and  villas,  glancing  forth  from  the  groves  that  surround  them, 
was  crowned  by  the  Mount  Camaldoli,  with  its  convent  spires 
pointing  to  the  sky.  A  rich  stream  of  music  announced  the 
coming  of  the  royal  pageant ;  and  proceeded  from  a  gilded 
barge,  to  which  countless  lamps  were  attached,  giving  it,  when 
seen  at  a  distance,  the  appearance  of  a  vast  shell  of  topaz, 
floating  on  a  sea  of  sapphire.  It  was  filled  with  musicians, 
attired  in  their  glittering  liveries ;  and  every  stroke  of  the  oars 
kept  time  to  the  music,  and  sent  forth  a  silvery  light  from  the 
water  which  they  rippled.  This  illuminated  and  gilded  barge 
was  followed  by  another,  adorned  by  a  silken  canopy  from 
which  hung  curtains  of  the  richest  texture,  partly  drawn  back 
to  admit  the  balmy  air.  .  .  .  The  King  himself  steered  the 
vessel,  his  tall  and  slight  figure  gently  curved,  and  his  snowy 
locks,  falling  over  ruddy  cheeks,  shew  that  age  has  bent  but 
not  broken  him.  He  looked  simple,  though  he  appears  like 
one  born  to  command ;  a  hoary  Neptune,  steering  over  his 
native  element. — Lady  Blessington. 


NAPLES  AND  THE  BAY  OF  NAPLES   443 


The  Lazzaroni 

The  Lazzaroni  are  the  porters  of  Naples ;  they  are  some- 
times attached  to  great  houses  under  the  appellation  of 
facchini  della  casa  (house-porter),  to  perform  commissions  for 
servants,  and  to  give  assistance  where  strength  and  exertion 
are  requisite ;  and  in  such  stations  they  are  said  to  have  given 
proofs  of  secrecy,  honesty  and  disinterestedness,  very  unusual 
among  servants.  Their  dress  is  often  only  a  shirt  and 
trowsers ;  their  diet,  maccaroni,  fish,  water-melon,  with  iced 
water,  and  not  unfrequently  wine ;  and  their  habitation,  the 
portico  of  a  church  or  of  a  palace.  Their  athletic  forms 
and  constant  flow  of  spirits  are  sufficient  demonstrations 
of  the  salutary  effects  of  such  plain  food,  and  simple 
habits.  .  .  . 

The  name,  or  rather  nickname,  by  which  this  class  is 
designated,  naturally  tends  to  prejudice  the  stranger  against 
them,  as  it  seems  to  convey  the  idea  of  a  sturdy  beggar :  its 
derivation  is  a  subject  of  conjecture ;  the  most  probable  seems 
to  be  that  adopted  at  Naples  itself,  which  supposes  it  to 
originate  from  the  Spanish  word  lacero,  derived  from  lacerus, 
signifying  tattered,  torn,  or  ragged. — Eustace. 

Pantomimic  Conversation 

Why  do  the  beggars  rap  their  chins  constantly,  with  their 
hands,  when  you  look  at  them  ?  Everything  is  done  in  panto- 
mime in  Naples,  and  that  is  the  conventional  sign  for  hunger. 
A  man  who  is  quarrelling  with  another,  yonder,  lays  the  palm 
of  his  right  hand  on  the  back  of  his  left,  and  shakes  the  two 
thumbs — expressive  of  a  donkey's  ears — whereat  his  adversary 
is  goaded  to  desperation.  Two  people  bargaining  for  fish,  the 
buyer  empties  an  imaginary  waistcoat  pocket  when  he  is  told 
the  price,  and  walks  away  without  a  word  :  having  thoroughly 
conveyed  to  the  seller  that  he  considers  it  too  dear.  Two 
people  in  carriages,  meeting,  one  touches  his  lips,  twice  or 
thrice,  holding  up  the  five  fingers  of  his  right  hand,  and  gives 
a  horizontal  cut  in  the  air  with  the  palm.  The  other  nods 
briskly,  and  goes  his  way.  He  has  been  invited  to  a  friendly 
dinner  at  half- past  five  o'clock,  and  will  certainly  come. — 
Dicketis. 


444  THE  BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


The  Lotteries 

There  is  one  extraordinary  feature  in  the  real  life  of 
Naples,  at  which  we  may  take  a  glance  before  we  go — the 
Lotteries. 

They  prevail  in  most  parts  of  Italy,  but  are  particularly 
obvious,  in  their  effects  and  influences,  here.  They  are  drawn 
every  Saturday.  They  bring  an  immense  revenue  to  the 
Government;  and  diffuse  a  taste  for  gambling  among  the 
poorest  of  the  poor,  which  is  very  comfortable  to  the  coffers  of 
the  State,  and  very  ruinous  to  themselves.  The  lowest  stake 
is  one  grain ;  less  than  a  farthing.  One  hundred  numbers — 
from  one  to  a  hundred,  inclusive — are  put  into  a  box.  Five 
are  drawn.  Those  are  the  prizes.  I  buy  three  numbers.  If 
one  of  them  come  up,  I  win  a  small  prize.  If  two,  some 
hundreds  of  times  my  stake.  If  three,  three  thousand  five 
hundred  times  my  stake.  I  stake  (or  play,  as  they  call  it) 
what  I  can  upon  my  numbers,  and  buy  what  numbers  I 
please.  The  amount  I  play,  I  pay  at  the  lottery  office,  where 
I  purchase  the  ticket ;  and  it  is  stated  on  the  ticket  itself. 

Every  lottery  office  keeps  a  printed  book,  an  Universal 
Lottery  Diviner,  where  every  possible  accident  and  circum- 
stance is  provided  for,  and  has  a  number  against  it.  For 
instance,  let  us  take  two  carlini — about  sevenpence.  On  our 
way  to  the  lottery  office,  we  run  against  a  black  man.  When 
we  get  there,  we  say  gravely,  "  The  Diviner."  It  is  handed 
over  the  counter,  as  a  serious  matter  of  business.  We  look  at : 
black  man.  Such  a  number.  "  Give  us  that."  We  look  at : 
running  against  a  person  in  the  street.  "  Give  us  that."  We 
look  at  the  name  of  the  street  itself.  "  Give  us  that."  Now, 
we  have  our  three  numbers. 

If  the  roof  of  the  theatre  of  San  Carlo  were  to  fall  in,  so 
many  people  would  play  upon  the  numbers  attached  to  such 
an  accident  in  the  Diviner,  that  the  Government  would  soon 
close  those  numbers,  and  decline  to  run  the  risk  of  losing  any 
more  upon  them.  This  often  happens.  Not  long  ago,  when 
there  was  a  fire  in  the  King's  Palace,  there  was  such  a  desperate 
run  on  fire,  and  king,  and  palace,  that  further  stakes  on  the 
numbers  attached  to  those  words  in  the  Golden  Book  were 
forbidden.  Every  accident  or  event,  is  supposed,  by  the 
ignorant  populace,  to  be  a  revelation  to  the  beholder,  or  party 
concerned,   in  connection   with   the  lottery.     Certain   people 


NAPLES   AND   THE   BAY  OF   NAPLES       445 

who  have  a  talent  for  dreaming  fortunately,  are  much  sought 
after ;  and  there  are  some  priests  who  are  constantly  favoured 
with  visions  of  the  lucky  numbers. 

I  heard  of  a  horse  running  away  with  a  man,  and  dashing 
him  down,  dead,  at  the  corner  of  a  street.  Pursuing  the  horse 
with  incredible  speed,  was  another  man,  who  ran  so  fast,  that 
he  came  up,  immediately  after  the  accident.  He  threw 
himself  upon  his  knees  beside  the  unfortunate  rider,  and 
clasped  his  hand  with  an  expression  of  the  wildest  grief.  "  If 
you  have  life,"  he  said,  "  speak  one  word  to  me  !  If  you  have 
one  gasp  of  breath  left,  mention  your  age  for  Heaven's  sake, 
that  I  may  play  that  number  in  the  lottery." — Dickens. 

The  "Toledo" 

The  "  Toledo"  is  every  man's  highway.  It  is  the  street  of 
eating-houses,  cafes  and  shops ;  the  artery  which  feeds  and 
crosses  every  quarter  of  the  town  ;  the  river  where  the  crowd 
bursts  in  Hke  a  flood.  Aristocracy  comes  by  in  its  carriage, 
the  tradespeople  sell  their  stuffs,  the  common  people  take 
their  siesta  there.  It  is  the  nobleman's  promenade,  the 
merchant's  bazaar,  and  the  beggar's  dwelling  -  house. — 
Alexafidre  Dtimas. 

Architecture 

To  describe  the  public  edifices  of  Naples  would  be  to 
compose  a  guide.  I  shall  therefore  content  myself  with  a 
few  observations  on  some  remarkable  objects  in  them,  or 
connected  with  them.  Several  churches  are  supposed  to  occupy 
the  sites  of  ancient  temples,  the  names  and  memory  of  which 
have  been  preserved  by  this  circumstance.  Thus  the  cathedral 
is  said  to  stand  on  the  substructions  of  a  temple  of  Apollo ; 
that  of  the  Santa  Apostoli  rises  on  the  ruins  of  a  temple  of 
Mercury.  S.  Maria  Maggiore  was  originally  a  temple  of 
Diana,  etc.  Of  these  churches  some  are  adorned  with  the 
pillars  and  the  marbles  of  the  temples  to  which  they  have 
succeeded.  Thus  the  cathedral  is  supported  by  more  than 
a  hundred  columns  of  granite,  which  belonged  to  the  edifice 
over  which  it  is  erected ;  as  did  the  forty  or  more  pillars 
that  decorated  the  treasury,  or  rather  the  chapel  of  St. 
Januarius.  The  church  itself  was  built  by  an  Angevin  prince, 
and  when  scattered  or  rather  destroyed  by  earthquakes,  it 
was   rebuilt    by   a   Spanish    sovereign.       It    is    Gothic,    but 


446  THE   BOOK    OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

strangely  disfigured  by  ornaments  and  reparations  in  diffe- 
rent styles.  In  the  subterraneous  chapel  under  the  choir  is 
deposited  the  body  of  St.  Januarius.  His  supposed  blood  is 
kept  in  a  vial  in  the  Tesoro  (treasury),  and  is  considered  as 
the  most  valuable  of  its  deposits,  and  indeed  as  the  glory  and 
the  ornament  of  the  cathedral  and  of  the  city  itself.  The 
blood  of  St.  Stephen  in  the  church  of  St.  Gaudioso,  be- 
longing to  the  Benedictine  Nuns,  is  said  to  liquefy  in  the 
same  manner;  but  only  once  a  year  on  the  festival  of  the 
martyr. 

The  Santi  Apostoli  is  in  its  origin  perhaps  the  most 
ancient  church  in  Naples,  and  was,  if  we  may  credit  tradition, 
erected  by  Constantine  upon  the  ruins  of  a  temple  of  Mercury  ; 
it  has  however  been  rebuilt  partially  more  than  once,  and 
finally  with  great  magnificence.  The  church  of  St.  Paul 
occupies  the  site  of  a  temple  of  Castor  and  Pollux ;  the  front 
of  this  temple,  consisting  of  eight  Corinthian  pillars,  was  de- 
stroyed by  the  earthquake  of  1688.  Two  only  were  restored, 
and  now  form  part  of  the  frontispiece  of  the  church.  The 
interior  is  spacious,  well  proportioned,  and  finely  incrusted 
with  marble.  The  chancel  is  very  extensive,  and  all  supported 
by  antique  pillars  ;  it  is  supposed  to  stand  over  the  theatre 
where  Nero  first  disgraced  himself  by  appearing  as  a  public 
singer :  some  vestiges  of  this  theatre  may  still  be  traced  by 
an  observing  antiquary.  The  church  of  St.  Filippo  Neri  is 
remarkable  for  the  number  of  ancient  pillars  that  support  its 
triple  row  of  aisles  on  both  sides  of  the  nave.  St.  Lorenzo, 
belonging  to  a  convent  founded  by  Charles  of  Anjou,  is  a 
monument  of  the  hatred  which  that  prince  bore  to  popular 
representation.  It  stands  on  the  site  of  the  BasiHca  Augusta, 
a  noble  and  magnificent  hall,  which  at  the  period  of  the  first 
entrance  of  the  French  was  the  place  of  public  assembly  where 
the  senate  and  people  of  Naples  met  in  council.  Charles 
suppressed  the  assemblies,  demolished  the  hall,  and  in  the 
year  1266  erected  the  church  which  now  occupies  its 
place.  ...  Of  all  the  Neapolitan  churches,  that  of  Di  Spirito 
Santo  in  the  Strada  Toledo  is  the  most  worthy  of  notice  in  my 
opinion,  because  the  purest  and  simplest  in  architecture. 
The  exterior  is  indifferent,  or  rather,  it  was  never  finished,  or 
at  least  decorated.  The  interior  is  large,  well  proportioned, 
adorned  with  Corinthian  pilasters,  and  a  regular  entablature 
and  cornice. — Eustace. 


NAPLES   AND  THE  BAY  OF  NAPLES       447 


Pompeii  ^ 

We  made  our  excursion  to  Pompeii,  passing  through  Por- 
tici,  and  over  the  last  lava  of  Mount  Vesuvius.  I  experienced 
a  strange  mixture  of  sensations,  on  surveying  at  once  the 
mischiefs  of  the  late  eruption,  in  the  ruin  of  villages,  farms, 
and  vineyards ;  and  all  around  them  the  most  luxuriant  and 
delightful  scenery  of  nature.  It  was  impossible  to  resist  the 
impressions  of  melancholy  from  viewing  the  former,  or  not  to 
admit  that  gaiety  of  spirits  which  was  inspired  by  the  sight  of 
the  latter.  I  say  nothing  of  the  Museum  at  Portici,  which 
we  saw  in  our  way,  on  account  of  the  ample  description 
of  its  contents  already  given  to  the  public,  and  because  it 
should  be  described  no  otherwise  than  by  an  exact  catalogue, 
or  by  an  exhibition  of  engravings.  An  hour  and  half  brought 
us  from  this  celebrated  repository  to  Pompeii.  Nothing  can 
be  conceived  more  delightful  than  the  climate  and  situation 
of  this  city.  It  stands  upon  a  gently-rising  hill,  which  com- 
mands the  bay  of  Naples,  with  the  islands  of  Caprea  and 
Ischia,  the  rich  coasts  of  Sorrento,  the  tower  of  Castel  a  Mare  ; 
and  on  the  other  side,  Mount  Vesuvius,  with  the  lovely  country 
intervening.  It  is  judged  to  be  about  an  Italian  mile  long, 
and  three  and  a  half  in  circuit.  We  entered  the  city  at  the 
little  gate  which  lies  towards  Stabiae.  The  first  object  upon 
entering  is  a  colonnade  round  a  square  court,  which  seems  to 
have  formed  a  place  of  arms.  Behind  the  colonnade  is  a  series 
of  little  rooms,  destined  for  the  soldiers'  barracks.  The  columns 
are  of  stone,  plastered  with  stucco  and  coloured.  On  several 
of  them  we  found  names  scratched  in  Greek  and  Latin ; 
probably  those  of  the  soldiers  who  had  been  quartered  there. 
Helmets  and  armour  for  various  parts  of  the  body  were  dis- 
covered amongst  the  skeletons  of  some  soldiers,  whose  hard 
fate  had  compelled  them  to  wait  on  duty,  at  the  perilous 
moment  of  the  city's  approaching  destruction.  Dolphins  and 
tridents,  sculptured  in  relief  on  most  of  these  relics  of  armour, 
seem  to  show  that  they  had  been  fabricated  for  naval  service. 
Some  of  the  sculptures  on  the  arms,  probably  belonging  to 
officers,  exhibit  a  greater  variety  of  ornaments.  The  taking 
of  Troy,  wrought  on  one  of  the  helmets,  is  beautifully  executed  ; 

^  The  impossibility  of  finding  any  correct  archaeological  description  of 
Pompeii  in  short  compass  makes  it  necessary  to  fall  back  on  the  earlier 
descriptions  we  have  chosen. 


448         THE    BOOK    OF    ITALIAN    TRAVEL 

and  much  may  be  said  in  commendation  of  the  work  of  several 
others. 

We  were  next  led  to  the  remains  of  a  temple  and  altar  near 
these  barracks.  From  thence  to  some  rooms  floored  (as  indeed 
were  almost  all  that  have  been  cleared  from  the  rubbish) 
with  tesselated  mosaic  pavements  of  various  patterns,  and 
most  of  them  of  very  excellent  execution.  Many  of  these  have 
been  taken  up,  and  now  form  the  floors  of  the  rooms  in  the 
Museum  at  Portici,  whose  best  ornaments  of  every  kind  are 
furnished  from  the  discoveries  at  Pompeii.  From  the  rooms 
just  mentioned  we  descended  into  a  subterraneous  chamber, 
communicating  with  a  bathing  apartment.  It  appears  to  have 
served  as  a  kind  of  office  to  the  latter.  It  was  probably  here 
that  the  clothes  used  in  bathing  were  washed.  A  fireplace, 
a  capacious  cauldron  of  bronze,  and  earthen  vessels,  proper 
for  that  purpose,  found  here,  have  given  rise  to  the  conjecture. 
Contiguous  to  this  room  is  a  small  circular  one  with  a  fire- 
place, which  was  the  stove  to  the  bath.  I  should  not  forget 
to  tell  you  that  the  skeleton  of  the  poor  laundress  (for  so  the 
antiquaries  will  have  it),  who  was  very  diligently  washing  the 
bathing  clothes  at  the  time  of  the  eruption,  was  found  lying 
in  an  attitude  of  most  resigned  death,  not  far  from  the  washing 
cauldron  in  the  office  just  mentioned. 

We  were  now  conducted  to  the  temple,  or  rather  chapel, 
of  Isis.  The  chief  remains  are  a  covered  cloister ;  the  great 
altar  on  which  was  probably  exhibited  the  statue  of  the  god- 
dess ;  a  little  edifice  to  protect  the  sacred  well ;  the  pediment 
of  the  chapel,  with  a  symbolical  vase  in  relief,  ornaments  in 
stucco,  on  the  front  of  the  main  building,  consisting  of  the 
lotus,  the  sistrum,  representations  of  gods,  Harpocrates,  Anubis, 
and  other  objects  of  Egyptian  worship.  The  figures  on  one 
side  of  this  temple  are  Perseus  with  the  Gorgon's  head ;  on 
the  other  side.  Mars  and  Venus,  with  Cupids  bearing  the  arms 
of  Mars.  We  next  observe  three  altars  of  different  sizes.  On 
one  of  them  is  said  to  have  been  found  the  bones  of  a  victim 
unconsumed,  the  last  sacrifice  having  probably  been  stopped 
by  the  dreadful  calamity  which  had  occasioned  it.  From 
a  niche  in  the  temple  was  taken  a  statue  of  marble :  a  woman 
pressing  her  lips  with  her  forefinger.  Within  the  area  is  a 
well,  where  the  priest  threw  the  ashes  of  the  sacrifices.  We 
saw  in  the  Museum  at  Portici  some  lovely  arabesque  paintings, 
cut  from  the  walls  of  the  cloister.  The  foliage  which  ran  round 
the  whole  sweep  of  the  cloister  itself  is  in  the  finest  taste. 


NAPLES   AND   THE  BAY   OF   NAPLES       449 

Behind  one  of  the  altars  we  saw  a  small  room,  in  which,  our 
guide  informed  us,  a  human  skeleton  had  been  discovered, 
with  some  fish  bones  on  a  plate  near  it,  and  a  number  of 
other  culinary  utensils.  We  then  passed  on  to  another  apart- 
ment, almost  contiguous,  where  nothing  more  remarkable  had 
been  found  than  an  iron  crow  :  an  instrument  with  which 
perhaps  the  unfortunate  wretch,  whose  skeleton  I  have  men- 
tioned above,  had  vainly  endeavoured  to  extricate  herself,  this 
room  being  probably  barricaded  by  the  matter  of  the  eruption. 
This  temple,  rebuilt,  as  the  inscription  imports,  by  N.  Popidius, 
had  been  thrown  down  by  a  terrible  earthquake,  that  likewise 
destroyed  a  great  part  of  the  city  (sixteen  years  before  the 
famous  eruption  of  Vesuvius  described  by  Pliny,  which  hap- 
pened in  the  first  year  of  Titus,  a.d.  79)  and  buried  at  once 
both  Herculaneum  and  Pompeii.  As  I  lingered  alone  in  these 
environs  sacred  to  Isis,  some  time  after  my  companions  had 
quitted  them,  I  fell  into  one  of  those  reveries  which  my 
imagination  is  so  fond  of  indulging ;  and  transporting  myself 
seventeen  hundred  years  back,  fancied  I  was  sailing  with  the 
elder  Pliny,  on  the  first  day's  eruption,  from  Misenum,  towards 
Retina  and  Herculaneum  ;  and  afterwards  towards  the  villa  of 
his  friend  Pomponianus  at  Stabise.  The  course  of  our  galley 
seldom  carried  us  out  of  sight  of  Pompeii,  and  as  often  as  I 
could  divert  my  attention  from  the  tremendous  spectacle  of  the 
eruption,  its  enormous  pillar  of  smoke  standing  conically  in 
the  air,  and  tempests  of  liquid  fire  continually  bursting  out 
from  the  midst  of  it,  then  raining  down  the  sides  of  the 
mountain,  and  flooding  this  beautiful  coast  with  innumerable 
streams  of  red-hot  lava,  methought  I  turned  my  eyes  upon  this 
fair  city,  whose  houses,  villas,  and  gardens,  with  their  long 
ranges  of  columned  courts  and  porticos,  were  made  visible 
through  the  universal  cloud  of  ashes,  by  lightning  from  the 
mountain ;  and  saw  its  distracted  inhabitants,  men,  women, 
and  children,  running  to  and  fro  in  despair.  But  in  one  spot, 
I  mean  the  court  and  precincts  of  the  temple,  glared  a  con- 
tinual light.  It  was  the  blaze  of  the  altars  ;  towards  which  I 
discerned  a  long-robed  train  of  priests  moving  in  solemn  pro- 
cession, to  supplicate  by  prayer  and  sacrifice,  at  this  destructive 
moment,  the  intervention  of  Isis,  who  had  taught  the  first 
fathers  of  mankind  the  culture  of  the  earth,  and  other  arts  of 
civil  life.  Methought  I  could  distinguish  in  their  hands  all 
those  paintings  and  images,  sacred  to  this  divinity,  brought  out 
on  this  portentous  occasion,  from  the  subterraneous  apartments 

2  F 


450  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

and  mystic  cells  of  the  temple.  There  was  every  form  of 
creeping  thing  and  abominable  beast,  every  Egyptian  pollution 
which  the  true  prophet  had  seen  in  vision,  among  the  secret 
idolatries  of  the  temple  at  Jerusalem.  The  priests  arrived  at 
the  altars  ;  I  saw  them  gathered  round,  and  purifying  the  three 
at  once  with  the  sacred  meal ;  then,  all  moving  slowly  about 
them,  each  with  his  right  hand  towards  the  fire :  it  was  the 
office  of  some  to  seize  the  firebrands  of  the  altars,  with  which 
they  sprinkled  holy  water  on  the  numberless  bystanders.  Then 
began  the  prayers,  the  hymns,  and  lustrations  of  the  sacrifice. 
The  priests  had  laid  the  victims  with  their  throats  downward 
upon  the  altars  ;  were  ransacking  the  baskets  of  flour  and  salt 
for  the  knives  of  slaughter,  and  proceeding  in  haste  to  the 
accomplishment  of  their  pious  ceremonies ; — when  one  of  our 
company,  who  thought  me  lost,  returned  with  impatience,  and 
calling  me  off  to  some  new  olaject,  put  an  end  to  my  strange 
reverie.  — Beckford. 

PoMPEiAN  Architecture 

Since  you  last  heard  from  me,  we  have  been  to  see 
Pompeii,  and  are  waiting  now  for  the  return  of  spring  weather, 
to  visit,  first  Pa5stum,  and  then  the  islands ;  after  which  we 
shall  return  to  Rome.  I  was  astonished  at  the  remains  of 
this  city ;  I  had  no  conception  of  anything  so  perfect  yet 
remaining.  My  idea  of  the  mode  of  its  destruction  was 
this  : — First,  an  earthquake  shattered  it,  and  unroofed  almost 
all  its  temples,  and  split  its  columns ;  then  a  rain  of  light 
small  pumice-stones  fell ;  then  torrents  of  boiling  water,  mixed 
with  ashes,  filled  up  all  its  crevices.  A  wide,  flat  hill,  from 
which  the  city  was  excavated,  is  now  covered  by  thick  woods, 
and  you  see  the  tombs  and  the  theatres,  the  temples  and  the 
houses,  surrounded  by  the  uninhabited  wilderness.  We 
entered  the  town  from  the  side  towards  the  sea,  and  first  saw 
two  theatres;  one  more  magnificent  than  the  other,  strewn 
with  the  ruins  of  the  white  marble  which  formed  their  seats 
and  cornices,  wrought  with  deep,  bold  sculpture.  In  the 
front,  between  the  stage  and  the  seats,  is  the  circular  space, 
occasionally  occupied  by  the  chorus.  The  stage  is  very 
narrow,  but  long,  and  divided  from  this  space  by  a  narrow 
enclosure  parallel  to  it,  I  suppose  for  the  orchestra.  On  each 
side  are  the  consuls'  boxes,  and  below  in  the  theatre  at 
Herculaneum,  were  found  two  equestrian  statues  of  admirable 


NAPLES    AND   THE   BAY   OF   NAPLES        451 

workmanship,  occupying  the  same  place  as  the  great  bronze 
lamps  did  at  Drury  Lane.  The  smallest  of  the  theatres  is 
said  to  have  been  comic,  though  I  should  doubt.  From  both 
you  see,  as  you  sit  on  the  seats,  a  prospect  of  the  most 
wonderful  beauty. 

You  then  pass  through  the  ancient  streets ;  they  are  very 
narrow,  and  the  houses  rather  small,  but  all  constructed  on  an 
admirable  plan,  especially  for  this  climate.  The  rooms  are 
built  round  a  court,  or  sometimes  two,  according  to  the  extent 
of  the  house.  L:i  the  midst  is  a  fountain,  sometimes  surrounded 
by  a  portico,  supported  on  fluted  columns  of  white  stucco  ;  the 
floor  is  paved  with  mosaic,  sometimes  wrought  in  imitation  of 
vine  leaves,  sometimes  in  quaint  figures,  and  more  or  less 
beautiful,  according  to  the  rank  of  the  inhabitant.  There 
were  paintings  on  all,  but  most  of  them  have  been  removed  to 
decorate  the  royal  museums.  Little  winged  figures,  and  small 
ornaments  of  exquisite  elegance,  yet  remain.  There  is  an 
ideal  life  in  the  forms  of  these  paintings  of  an  incomparable 
loveliness,  though  most  are  evidently  the  work  of  very  inferior 
artists.  It  seems  as  if,  from  the  atmosphere  of  mental  beauty 
which  surrounded  them,  every  human  being  caught  a  splendour 
not  his  own.  In  one  house  you  see  how  the  bed-rooms  were 
managed : — a  small  sofa  was  built  up,  where  the  cushions  were 
placed ;  two  pictures,  one  representing  Diana  and  Endymion, 
the  other  Venus  and  Mars,  decorate  the  chamber,  and  a  little 
niche,  which  contains  the  statue  of  a  domestic  god.  The  floor 
is  composed  of  a  rich  mosaic  of  the  rarest  marbles,  agate, 
jasper,  and  porphyry  ;  it  looks  to  the  marble  fountain  and  the 
snow-white  columns,  whose  entablatures  strew  the  floor  of  the 
portico  they  supported.  The  houses  have  only  one  storey, 
and  the  apartments,  though  not  large,  are  very  lofty.  A  great 
advantage  results  from  this,  wholly  unknown  in  our  cities. 
The  public  buildings,  whose  ruins  are  now  forests,  as  it  were, 
of  white  fluted  columns,  and  which  then  supported  entablatures, 
loaded  with  sculptures,  were  seen  on  all  sides  over  the  roofs  of 
the  houses.  This  was  the  excellence  of  the  ancients.  Their 
private  expenses  were  comparatively  moderate ;  the  dwelling 
of  one  of  the  chief  senators  of  Pompeii  is  elegant  indeed,  and 
adorned  with  most  beautiful  specimens  of  art,  but  small.  But 
their  public  buildings  are  everywhere  marked  by  the  bold  and 
grand  designs  of  an  unsparing  magnificence.  In  the  little 
town  of  Pompeii,  (it  contained  about  twenty  thousand  in- 
habitants,) it  is  wonderful  to  see  the  number  and  the  grandeur 


452  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

of  their  public  buildings.  Another  advantage,  too,  is  that,  in 
the  present  case,  the  glorious  scenery  around  is  not  shut  out, 
and  that,  unlike  the  inhabitants  of  the  Cimmerian  ravines  of 
modern  cities,  the  ancient  Pompeians  could  contemplate  the 
clouds  and  the  lamps  of  heaven ;  could  see  the  moon  rise 
high  behind  Vesuvius,  and  the  sun  set  in  the  sea,  tremulous 
with  an  atmosphere  of  golden  vapour,  between  Inarime  and 
Misenum. 

We  next  saw  the  temples.  Of  the  temple  of  ^sculapius 
little  remains  but  an  altar  of  black  stone,  adorned  with  a  cornice 
imitating  the  scales  of  a  serpent.  His  statue,  in  terra-cotta, 
was  found  in  the  cell.  The  temple  of  Isis  is  more  perfect.  It 
is  surrounded  by  a  portico  of  fluted  columns,  and  in  the  area 
around  it  are  two  altars,  and  many  ceppi  for  statues ;  and  a 
little  chapel  of  white  stucco,  as  hard  as  stone,  of  the  most 
exquisite  proportion ;  its  panels  are  adorned  with  figures  in 
bas-relief,  slightly  indicated,  but  of  a  workmanship  the  most 
delicate  and  perfect  that  can  be  conceived.  They  are  Egyptian 
subjects,  executed  by  a  Greek  artist,  who  has  harmonised  all 
the  unnatural  extravagances  of  the  original  conception  into 
the  supernatural  loveliness  of  his  country's  genius.  They 
scarcely  touch  the  ground  with  their  feet,  and  their  wind- 
uplifted  robes  seem  in  the  place  of  wings.  The  temple  in  the 
midst  raised  on  a  high  platform,  and  approached  by  steps, 
was  decorated  with  exquisite  paintings,  some  of  which  we 
saw  in  the  museum  at  Portici.  It  is  small,  of  the  same 
materials  as  the  chapel,  with  a  pavement  of  mosaic,  and  fluted 
Ionic  columns  of  white  stucco,  so  white  that  it  dazzles  you  to 
look  at  it. 

Thence  through  other  porticos  and  labyrinths  of  walls  and 
columns  (for  I  cannot  hope  to  detail  everything  to  you),  we 
came  to  the  Forum.  This  is  a  large  square,  surrounded  by 
lofty  porticos  of  fluted  columns,  some  broken,  some  entire, 
their  entablatures  strewed  under  them.  The  temple  of  Jupiter, 
of  Venus,  and  another  temple,  the  Tribunal,  and  the  Hall  of 
Public  Justice,  with  their  forests  of  lofty  columns,  surround 
the  Forum.  Two  pedestals  or  altars  of  an  enormous  size 
(for,  whether  they  supported  equestrian  statues,  or  were  the 
altars  of  the  temple  of  Venus,  before  which  they  stand,  the 
guide  could  not  tell),  occupy  the  lower  end  of  the  Forum. 
At  the  upper  end,  supported  on  an  elevated  platform,  stands 
the  temple  of  Jupiter.  Under  the  colonnade  of  its  portico  we 
sate,  and  pulled  out  our  oranges,  and   figs,  and  bread,  and 


NAPLES   AND   THE   BAY   OF   NAPLES       453 

medlars  (sorry  fare,  you  will  say),  and  rested  to  eat.     Here 
was  a  magnificent  spectacle.     Above  and  between  the  multi- 
tudinous shafts  of  the  sun-shining  columns  was  seen  the  sea, 
reflecting  the  purple  noon  of  heaven  above  it,  and  supporting, 
as  it  were,  on  its  line  the  dark  lofty  mountains  of  Sorrento,  of 
a  blue  inexpressibly  deep,  and  tinged  towards  their  summits 
with  streaks   of  new-fallen  snow.      Between  was   one   small 
green  island.     To  the  right  was  Caprese,  Inarime,  Prochyta, 
and  Misenum.     Behind  was  the  single  summit  of  Vesuvius, 
rolling  forth  volumes  of  thick  white  smoke,  whose  foam-like 
column  was  sometimes  darted  into  the  clear  dark  sky,  and  fell 
in  little  streaks  along  the  wind.     Between  Vesuvius  and  the 
nearer  mountains,  as  through  a  chasm,  was  seen  the  main 
line  of  the  loftiest  Apennines,  to  the  east.      The  day  was 
radiant  and  warm.     Every  now  and  then  we  heard  the  sub- 
terranean thunder  of  Vesuvius  ;  its  distant  deep  peals  seemed 
to  shake  the  very  air  and  light  of  day,  which  interpenetrated 
our  frames,   with  the  sullen  and   tremendous  sound.     This 
scene  was  what  the  Greeks  beheld  (Pompeii,  you  know,  was 
a  Greek  city).     They  lived  in  harmony  with  nature  ;  and  the 
interstices  of  their  incomparable  columns  were  portals,  as  it 
were,    to   admit   the    spirit   of    beauty   which   animates   this 
glorious  universe  to  visit  those  whom  it  inspired.      If   such 
is  Pompeii,  what  was  Athens?      What  scene  was  exhibited 
from    the    Acropolis,    the    Parthenon,    and    the    temples    of 
Hercules,  and  Theseus,  and  the  Winds?      The  islands  and 
the  yEgean  sea,  the  mountains  of  Argolis,  and  the  peaks  of 
Pindus  and  Olympus,  and  the  darkness  of  the  Boeotian  forest 
interspersed  ? 

From  the  Forum  we  went  to  another  public  place ;  a 
triangular  portico,  half  enclosing  the  ruins  of  an  enormous 
temple.  It  is  built  on  the  edge  of  the  hill  overlooking  the 
sea.  That  black  point  is  the  temple.  In  the  apex  of  the 
triangle  stands  an  altar  and  a  fountain,  and  before  the  altar 
once  stood  the  statue  of  the  builder  of  the  portico.  Returning 
hence,  and  following  the  consular  road,  we  came  to  the  eastern 
gate  of  the  city.  The  walls  are  of  enormous  strength,  and 
inclose  a  space  of  three  miles.  On  each  side  of  the  road 
beyond  the  gate  are  built  the  tombs.  How  unlike  ours !  They 
seem  not  so  much  hiding-places  for  that  which  must  decay,  as 
voluptuous  chambers  for  immortal  spirits.  They  are  of  marble, 
radiantly  white ;  and  two,  especially  beautiful,  are  loaded  with 
exquisite  bas-reliefs.     On  the  stucco-wall  that  incloses  them 


454  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

are  little  emblematic  figures,  of  a  relief  exceedingly  low,  of 
dead  and  dying  animals,  and  little  winged  genii,  and  female 
forms  bending  in  groups  in  some  funereal  office.  The  higher 
reliefs  represent,  one  a  nautical  subject,  and  the  other  a  Bac- 
chanalian one.  Within  the  cell  stand  the  cinerary  urns,  some- 
times one,  sometimes  more.  It  is  said  that  paintings  were 
found  within  ;  which  are  now,  as  has  been  everything  moveable 
in  Pompeii,  removed,  and  scattered  about  in  royal  museums. 
These  tombs  were  the  most  impressive  things  of  all.  The 
wild  woods  surround  them  on  either  side ;  and  along  the 
broad  stones  of  the  paved  road  which  divides  them,  you  hear 
the  late  leaves  of  autumn  shiver  and  rustle  in  the  stream  of 
the  inconstant  wind,  as  it  were,  Hke  the  steps  of  ghosts.  The 
radiance  and  magnificence  of  these  dwellings  of  the  dead, 
the  white  freshness  of  the  scarcely  finished  marble,  the  im- 
passioned or  imaginative  life  of  the  figures  which  adorn  them, 
contrast  strangely  with  the  simplicity  of  the  houses  of  those 
who  were  living  when  Vesuvius  overwhelmed  them. 

I  have  forgotten  the  amphitheatre,  which  is  of  great  magni- 
tude, though  much  inferior  to  the  Coliseum.  I  now  under- 
stand why  the  Greeks  were  such  great  poets ;  and,  above  all, 
I  can  account,  it  seems  to  me,  for  the  harmony,  the  unity,  the 
perfection,  the  uniform  excellence,  of  all  their  works  of  art. 
They  lived  in  a  perpetual  commerce  with  external  nature,  and 
nourished  themselves  upon  the  spirit  of  its  forms.  Their 
theatres  were  all  open  to  the  mountains  and  the  sky.  Their 
columns,  the  ideal  types  of  a  sacred  forest,  with  its  roof  of 
interwoven  tracery,  admitted  the  light  and  wind  ;  the  odour 
and  the  freshness  of  the  country  penetrated  the  cities.  Their 
temples  were  mostly  upaithric  ;  and  the  flying  clouds,  the  stars, 
or  the  deep  sky,  were  seen  above. — Shelley. 

Vesuvius 

Vesuvius  is,  after  the  Glaciers,  the  most  impressive  ex- 
hibition of  the  energies  of  nature  I  ever  saw.  It  has  not  the 
immeasurable  greatness,  the  overpowering  magnificence,  nor, 
above  all,  the  radiant  beauty  of  the  glaciers  ;  but  it  has  all 
their  character  of  tremendous  and  irresistible  strength.  From 
Resina  to  the  hermitage  you  wind  up  the  mountain,  and  cross 
a  vast  stream  of  hardened  lava,  which  is  an  actual  image  of 
the  waves  of  the  sea,  changed  into  hard  black  stone  by  en- 
chantment.    The  lines  of  the  boiling  flood  seem  to  hang  in 


NAPLES   AND   THE   BAY   OF   NAPLES        455 

the  air,  and  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that  the  billows  which 
seem  hurrying  down  upon  you  are  not  actually  in  motion. 
This  plain  was  once  a  sea  of  liquid  fire.  From  the  hermitage 
we  crossed  another  vast  stream  of  lava,  and  then  went  on  foot 
up  the  cone — this  is  the  only  part  of  the  ascent  in  which  there 
is  any  difficulty,  and  that  difficulty  has  been  much  exaggerated. 
It  is  composed  of  rocks  of  lava,  and  declivities  of  ashes ;  by 
ascending  the  former  and  descending  the  latter,  there  is  very 
little  fatigue.  On  the  summit  is  a  kind  of  irregular  plain,  the 
most  horrible  chaos  that  can  be  imagined ;  riven  into  ghastly 
chasms,  and  heaped  up  with  tumuli  of  great  stones  and  cinders, 
and  enormous  rocks  lilackened  and  calcined,  which  had  been 
thrown  from  the  volcano  upon  one  another  in  terrible  con- 
fusion. In  the  midst  stands  the  conical  hill  from  which 
volumes  of  smoke,  and  the  fountains  of  liquid  fire,  are  rolled 
forth  forever.  The  mountain  is  at  present  in  a  slight  state  of 
eruption ;  and  a  thick  heavy  white  smoke  is  perpetually  rolled 
out,  interrupted  by  enormous  columns  of  an  impenetrable  black 
bituminous  vapour,  which  is  hurled  up,  fold  after  fold,  into  the 
sky  with  a  deep  hollow  sound,  and  fiery  stones  are  rained  down 
from  its  darkness,  and  a  black  shower  of  ashes  fell  even  where 
we  sat.  The  lava,  like  the  glacier,  creeps  on  perpetually,  with 
a  crackling  sound  as  of  suppressed  fire.  There  are  several 
springs  of  lava  ;  and  in  one  place  it  rushes  precipitously  over  a 
high  crag,  rolling  down  the  half-molten  rocks  and  its  own  over- 
hanging waves ;  a  cataract  of  quivering  fire.  We  approached 
the  extremity  of  one  of  the  rivers  of  lava  ;  it  is  about  twenty  feet 
in  breadth  and  ten  in  height ;  and  as  the  inclined  plane  was 
not  rapid,  its  motion  was  very  slow.  We  saw  the  masses  of 
its  dark  exterior  surface  detach  themselves  as  it  moved,  and 
betray  the  depth  of  the  liquid  flame.  In  the  day  the  fire  is 
but  slightly  seen ;  you  only  observe  a  tremulous  motion  in  the 
air,  and  streams  and  fountains  of  white  sulphurous  smoke. 

At  length  we  saw  the  sun  sink  between  Capreae  and 
Inarime,  and,  as  the  darkness  increased,  the  effect  of  the 
fire  became  more  beautiful.  We  were,  as  it  were,  surrounded 
by  streams  and  cataracts  of  the  red  and  radiant  fire ;  and  in 
the  midst,  from  the  column  of  bituminous  smoke  shot  up  into 
the  air,  fell  the  vast  masses  of  rock,  white  with  the  light  of 
their  intense  heat,  leaving  behind  them  through  the  dark 
vapour  trains  of  splendour.  We  descended  by  torch-light, 
and  I  should  have  enjoyed  the  scenery  on  my  return,  but  they 
conducted  me,  I  know  not  how,  to  the  hermitage  in  a  state  of 
intense  bodily  suffering. — Shelley. 


456  THE   BOOK   OF   ITALIAN   TRAVEL 


NOTES   ON   THE   BAY   OF   NAPLES 

Three  excursions  of  interest  may  be  made  from  Naples : 
the  first,  a  trip  in  a  row-boat  westward  to  Misenum.  Shelley 
has  described  this  as  follows  :  "  We  set  off  an  hour  after  sun- 
rise one  radiant  morning  in  a  little  boat ;  there  was  not  a  cloud 
in  the  sky,  nor  a  wave  upon  the  sea,  which  was  so  translucent 
that  you  could  see  the  hollow  caverns  clothed  with  the  glaucous 
sea-moss,  and  the  leaves  and  branches  of  those  delicate  weeds 
that  pave  the  unequal  bottom  of  the  water.  As  noon  ap- 
proached, the  heat,  and  especially  the  light,  became  intense. 
We  passed  Posilipo,  and  came  first  to  the  eastern  point  of  the 
bay  of  Puzzoli,  which  is  within  the  great  bay  of  Naples,  and 
which  again  incloses  that  of  Baias.  Here  are  lofty  rocks  and 
craggy  islets,  with  arches  and  portals  of  precipice  standing  in 
the  sea,  and  enormous  caverns,  w'hich  echoed  faintly  with  the 
murmur  of  the  languid  tide.  This  is  called  La  Scuola  di 
Virgilio.  We  then  went  directly  across  to  the  promontory  of 
Misenum." 

Misenum  has  been  aptly  described  by  Forsyth  as  "  once 
the  Portsmouth  of  the  Roman  Empire,"  and  the  magnificent 
natural  harbour  is  well  worth  seeing.  Shelley  then  continues  : 
"  We  were  conducted  to  see  the  Mare  Morto,  and  the  Elysian 
fields  ;  and  the  spot  on  which  Virgil  places  the  scenery  of 
the  Sixth  yEneid.  Though  extremely  beautiful,  as  a  lake,  and 
woody  hills,  and  this  divine  sky  must  make  it,  I  confess  my 
disappointment.  The  guide  showed  us  an  antique  cemetery, 
where  the  niches  used  for  placing  the  cinerary  urns  of  the 
dead  yet  remain.  We  then  coasted  the  bay  of  Bai^e  to  the 
left,  in  which  we  saw  many  picturesque  and  interesting  ruins ; 
but  I  have  to  remark  that  we  never  disembarked  but  we  were 
disappointed — while  from  the  boat  the  effect  of  the  scenery 
was  inexpressibly  delightful."  This  warning  may  be  followed, 
for  little  remains  of  the  villas  by  which  Sylla,  Pompey,  Tiberius 
and  Nero  made  Baite  the  fashionable  watering-place  of  Rome. 

The  second  excursion  should  be  a  carriage-drive  (beginning 
over  the  jolting  lava-pavement)  on  the  road  running  from 
Naples  through  an  almost  continuous  line  of  villages  to 
Sorrento.  The  sea-life  of  these  little  fishing  towns  is  very 
curious,  and  the  general  view  charmed  Dickens,  who  went 
by  rail.  He  wrote:  "Over  doors  and  archways,  there  are 
countless   little   images  of  San  Gennaro,   with   his  Canute's 


NAPLES  AND  THE  BAY  OF  NAPLES       457 

hand  stretched  out,  to  check  the  fury  of  the  Burning  Moun- 
tain ;  we  are  carried  pleasantly,  by  a  railroad  on  the  beautiful 
Sea  Beach,  past  the  town  of  Torre  del  Greco,  built  upon  the 
ashes  of  the  former  town  destroyed  by  an  eruption  of  Vesuvius, 
within  a  hundred  years ;  and  past  the  flat-roofed  houses, 
granaries,  and  macaroni  manufactories  to  Castel-a-Mare, 
with  its  ruined  castle,  now  inhabited  by  fishermen,  standing 
in  the  sea  upon  a  heap  of  rocks.  Here,  the  railroad  ter- 
minates; but,  hence  we  may  ride  on,  by  an  unbroken  suc- 
cession of  enchanting  bays,  and  beautiful  scenery,  sloping 
from  the  highest  summit  of  Saint  Angelo,  the  highest  neigh- 
bouring mountain,  down  to  the  water's  edge — among  vineyards, 
olive-trees,  gardens  of  oranges  and  lemons,  orchards,  heaped-up 
rocks,  green  gorges  in  the  hills — and  by  the  bases  of  snow- 
covered  heights,  and  through  small  towns  with  handsome, 
dark-haired  women  at  the  doors — and  past  delicious  summer 
villas — to  Sorrento,  where  the  Poet  Tasso  drew  his  inspiration 
from  the  beauty  surrounding  him.  Returning,  we  may  climb 
the  heights  above  Castel-a-Mare,  and  looking  down  among  the 
boughs  and  leaves,  see  the  crisp  water  glistening  in  the  sun  ; 
and  clusters  of  white  houses  in  distant  Naples,  dwindling,  in 
the  great  extent  of  prospect,  down  to  dice." 

The  island  of  Ischia  at  the  western  entrance  of  the  bay  of 
Naples  has  not  much  interest,  except  that  the  scenery  has  a 
curious  Grecian  aspect.  Addison  wrote  of  the  approach : 
"  On  the  north  end  of  the  island  stands  the  town  and  castle, 
on  an  exceeding  high  rock,  divided  from  the  body  of  the 
island,  and  inaccessible  to  an  enemy  on  all  sides.  This  island 
is  larger,  but  much  more  rocky  and  barren  than  Procita." 

For  Capri  (our  third  excursion)  we  may  refer  to  Addison  : 
"  The  island  lies  four  miles  in  length  from  east  to  west,  and 
about  one  in  breadth.  The  western  part,  for  about  two  miles 
in  length,  is  a  continued  rock,  vastly  high,  and  inaccessible 
on  the  sea-side.  It  has,  however,  the  greatest  town  in  the 
island,  that  goes  under  the  name  of  Ana-Caprea,  and  is  in 
several  places  covered  with  a  very  fruitful  soil.  The  eastern 
end  of  the  isle  rises  up  in  precipices  very  near  as  high,  though 
not  quite  so  long,  as  the  western.  Between  these  eastern  and 
western  mountains  lies  a  slip  of  lower  ground,  which  runs 
across  the  island,  and  is  one  of  the  pleasantest  spots  I  have 
seen.  It  is  hid  with  vines,  figs,  oranges,  almonds,  olives, 
myrtles,  and  fields  of  com,  which  look  extremely  fresh  and 
beautiful,  and  make  up  the  most  delightful  little  landscape 

2  G 


458  THE  BOOK   OF  ITALIAN   TRAVEL 

imaginable,  when  they  are  surveyed  from  the  tops  of  the 
neighbouring  mountains.  Here  stands  the  town  of  Caprea, 
the  bishop's  palace,  and  two  or  three  convents.  In  the  midst 
of  this  fruitful  tract  of  land  rises  a  hill,  that  was  probably 
covered  with  buildings  in  Tiberius's  time.  There  are  still 
several  ruins  on  the  sides  of  it,  and  about  the  top  are  found 
two  or  three  dark  galleries,  low  built,  and  covered  with 
mason's  work,  though  at  present  they  appear  overgrown  with 
grass." 

The  Blue  Grotto  has  been  portrayed  by  Mendelssohn : 
"  The  sea  fills  the  whole  space  of  the  grotto,  the  entrance  to 
which  lies  under  the  water,  only  a  very  small  portion  of  the 
opening  projecting  above  the  water,  and  through  this  narrow 
space  you  can  only  pass  in  a  small  boat,  in  which  you  must 
lie  flat.  When  you  are  once  in,  the  whole  extent  of  the  huge 
cave  and  its  vault  is  revealed,  and  you  can  row  about  in  it 
with  perfect  ease,  as  if  under  a  dome.  The  light  of  the  sun 
also  pierces  through  the  opening  into  the  grotto  from  under- 
neath the  sea,  but  broken  and  dimmed  by  the  green  sea-water, 
and  thence  it  is  that  such  magical  dreams  arise.  The  whole 
of  the  high  rocks  are  sky-blue,  and  green  in  the  twilight, 
resembling  the  hue  of  moonshine.  .  .  .  Every  stroke  of  the 
oars  echoes  strangely  under  the  vault." 

In  the  gulf  of  Salerno,  which  can  be  seen  from  Capri,  is 
Amalfi,  that  southern  Pisa,  with  a  similar  early  glory  and 
similar  fate,  and  Salerno  with  its  memories  of  the  Norman 
invasion  of  Sicily ;  further  down  is  Paestum  with  its  Greek 
temples.  No  better  comment  on  the  beauty  of  Southern 
Italy  has  been  made  than  that  of  Goethe :  "  Now  that  all 
these  coasts  and  promontories,  gulfs  and  bays,  islands  and 
necks  of  land,  rocks  and  sand-belts,  bushy  hills,  soft  meadows, 
fruitful  fields,  ornamented  gardens,  cultivated  trees,  hanging 
vines,  cloud-capt  mountains  and  ever  cheerful  plains,  cliffs 
and  banks,  and  the  all-surrounding  sea,  with  so  many  changes 
and  variations — now  that  all  these  have  become  the  present 
property  of  my  mind — now,  indeed,  for  the  first  time  does 
the  Odyssey  address  me  as  a  living  reality." 


INDEX   TO   TOWNS 


Ancona,  199 
Assisi,  318 

Bergamo,  209 
Bologna,  225 

Capri,  457 
Como,  208 
Crema,  221 
Cremona,  222 

Ferrara,  188 

Florence,  Approach  to,  253  ;  In 
Sixteenth  Century,  254;  In  Seven- 
teenth Century,  257  ;  In  Eigh- 
teenth Century,  262 ;  Florentine 
Life,  264-269  ;  Palazzo  Vecchio, 
269;  Duomo,  273;  Churches,  278; 
Palaces,  292-297  ;  Art,  299  ; 
Environs,  307 ;  General  Note, 
310 

Genoa,  234 

La  Verna,  322 
Leghorn,  251 
Loretto,  197 
Lucca,  242 

Mantua,  185 
Milan,  211 
Modena,  224 
Monza,  210 

Naples,  438 

Orvieto,  329 


Padua,  179 
Parma,  223 
Pavia,  219 
Perugia,  315 
Pisa,  244 
Pompeii,  447 

Ravenna,  190 

Rimini,  192 

Rome,  Approach  to,  331  ;  Antiqui- 
ties, 33,V352  ;  Catacombs,  355  ; 
In  Sixteenth  Century,  359  ;  In 
Seventeenth  Century,  366 ;  In 
Eighteenth  Century,  371  ;  Goethe 
on,  374  ;  Roman  Life,  376-381  ; 
St.  Peter's,  381-389 ;  Basilicas, 
393-402  ;  Churches,  403-417  ; 
Palaces,  417-422;  Environs,  424 ; 
Art,  425  ;  General  Note,  430 

San  Marino,  193 
Siena,  323 

Turin,  233 

Urbino,  197 

Venice,  Approach  to,  in;  In 
Seventeenth  Century,  114;  In 
Eighteenth  Century,  120 ;  Goethe 
on,  129  ;  Venetian  Life,  133-140  ; 
San  Marco,  14 1- 155  ;  Grand 
Canal,  161  ;  Churches,  163-166; 
Art,  166  ;  General  Note,  169 

Verona,  172 

Vicenza,  177 


Printed  by  Ballantyne,  Hanson  &'  Co. 
Edinburgh  6^  London 


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OCT     9 1978 


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